Another World
by BkWurm1
Summary: Xover with Lois&Clark. Clark in alternate reality. Chloe works to bring him back, how far will she go? What's significance of alt Chloe? Who will Clark and Chloe turn to for help? What does Chloe mean to him? Set mid season 6 then AU. Chlark some Chruce
1. Destination AU

"He's gone." One science geek repeated, while the other stood frozen to the ground, dumbstruck.

Chloe wanted to scream and when Clark vanished before her eyes, she thought she probably had. Her research told her these two weird science candidates were holding onto reality by their fingertips, but nothing had indicated their top secret project was suppose to be a weapon. Nor had Clark reacted like any kryptonite, err, meteor rocks were around so when the beam of light struck Clark, the machine couldn't have harmed him. He was impervious to lasers. Chloe fought back the fear and seized hold of her anger to steady herself.

"I can see he's gone. Where is he? What the hell is this thing supposed to do?"

"It worked, it must have worked; but he wasn't supposed to go," Lab coat number two finally found his voice. "How dare he interfere with the project?"

Chloe advanced on him with vicious intent clearly shining in her eyes. "How dare he interfere?" Both of her mad scientists took a step back as her fury built. "You use University funds for unauthorized experiments, break into the science building to steal what you couldn't embezzle, and then turn your dooms day device on the first person to walk through the door. You both had better start talking real fast as to why I shouldn't take this sledge hammer and destroy your baby." Only the outlandish stories she picked up from their neighbor was keeping her from complete panic. If there was any truth in those outrageous tales, then Clark might be ok. Otherwise, the device wouldn't be the only thing on which she used the sledgehammer.

"It was an accident, I got nervous." The first inventor volunteered.

Chloe recognized him as Victor Davinhoe as she took a step closer with the hammer. "Not good enough"

"Wait! Don't damage it. You need it if you ever want to see your friend again," the second one shouted leaping in front of the contraption.

"Milton Hamlish," Chloe identified the protector as she continued, "I still don't hear any explanations. Start talking now. What happened to Clark?" She shifted hands along the wooden handle of the heavy hammer.

"Tell her," Victor urged.

"Fine, we've developed a way to peel back a layer and slip into an alternate universe. We've done testing on inanimate objects and even mice. Today I was going to go."

"Then bring Clark back right now and I might not use this taser on you." She dropped the hammer, pulled out a dangerous looking black object, and let the energy build-up crackle for effect.

"It's not that easy," Milton replied.

"What do you mean? You said you did testing; that you were going to use it yourself."

Victor answered, "We used a tag, a marker to retrieve those things. Your friend traveled without that."

Chloe knew about the multi-verse theories skimming around the world of science. Most felt it too far out in left field to give the theory any credence, but she had seen stranger things come true. "So fine, Milton you were going to go anyway. You can go, tag him, and bring him back."

He slowly shook his head. "There could be hundreds of thousands of copies of this reality, this universe we know. He's in one of them, but we don't know which universe he slipped into."

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Blinding light flared. His other senses dimmed, muffled like being under water, and then he staggered forward. A moment before, he was helping Chloe explore an unregistered science lab in a crowded corner of the University's archival basement section of the library. Clark spun around; not only was Chloe gone, but any remnant of the lab was also missing.

He called out her name and then used his abilities to scope out the building. Earlier he and Chloe had an easy time getting in undetected. The newly built section of the University Library, where the rare manuscripts and computers were located, might have used stationed security guards in addition to the regular alarm and motion detectors. But, in the old wing, where study carousels occupied the upper floors and the basement levels housed a wide variety of defunct paraphernalia, a standard lock and a simple alarm easily bypassed was all that stood in the way in an otherwise empty building. Now, he picked up scattered life signs all over, but heard nothing that made him think they belonged to Chloe or the two from the lab. From the snippets of conversation he tuned into, the study carousels were kept open 24/7 for finals. But hadn't Chloe just finished finals last Friday? Most of the University students already had cleaned out their dorm rooms. Only those working as teaching assistants or summer students stayed on. Something wasn't right. He needed to find Chloe.

He zipped over to the dormitories. Just an hour ago, the place had been a ghost town. Now muffled music contained behind closed doors burst through the air whenever students slipped in and out of the hallways. The crowds in the corridor made blending in easy, but Clark's apprehension grew in front of Chloe's dorm room. On the door was a poster of a very un-Chloe like fluffy unicorn. He checked the dorm room number. This was her room. He visited both her and Lana enough to be sure he was not in the wrong spot.

Before he could knock, the door swung open. A pair of heavily made up eyes registered momentary surprise and then switched to calculated appreciation. Clark smiled nervously and asked, "Is Chloe here?"

"Who?"

"Chloe Sullivan, this is her dorm room."

A disappointed pout appeared on her face. The very pretty piece of male candy wasn't looking for her. "Sorry sugar, but you're in the wrong place. I've been in the room all year, just me and Juanita. No Chloe's here. Maybe you're on the wrong floor," she ended with a smile that hinted she would like to keep him for herself.

Clark barely paid any attention to the girl, as he scanned the room and the rooms around it. He didn't waste time trying to understand what was happening. He absently thanked the girl and headed out. The Daily Planet, he should be able to find her there or wait until she showed up.

He delayed using his super speed until he ducked into the empty stairwell. At the edge of campus, he stopped in surprise. The skyline was different and off to the east moonlight played on the surface of a bay before reaching out into a large body of water, water that shouldn't be there. According to the sign, he was definitely standing on the campus of Metropolis University. He zoomed in on the license plates of the cars going by. None belonged to the state of Kansas. What was going on?

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Chloe's mind went numb. They were telling her Clark was lost, gone, trapped. Grief spiked through her and a half sob, half gasp escaped her. "No," she couldn't believe it. "NO!" She wouldn't believe it and wouldn't give up on Clark that easily. "Clark is out there somewhere and you two are going to figure out how to find him."

"I told you it's not that easy," Milton began. "Without the tagging device to amplify his signature in space, we can't track him down."

"Wait, you said the tagging device just boosts his signature," Chloe tried to reason out.

Victor stepped in to explain, "Yes, we found that every object, whether living or inanimate, gives off a unique signal."

"What kind of signal? Why can't you track that down?"

"You wouldn't understand," Milton said dismissively.

Chloe narrowed her eyes in annoyance, "Then make me understand."

Victor cleared his throat nervously and said, "Our work is highly sensitive and if word got out there are those who would try to take credit for..."

Chloe impatiently cut him off. "Word is about to get out in a very big way if you two don't get me some answers and if we don't get Clark back I wouldn't be surprised if the police hold you for murder."

"Murder! We didn't kill anyone!" Victor proclaimed turning pale as he spoke.

"Maybe not," began Chloe, "but they will be way more likely to believe you created some kind of laser weapon that you used on Clark than you just accidentally sent him to an unknown universe." They both just looked at her. "Now start explaining everything."

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Clark needed to get his bearings. He knew his way around his Metropolis, but not this one. He found a phone booth and looked up the Daily Planet in the directory. He sighed in relief when he spotted the familiar logo of the Planet. He noted the address and then scanned the downtown map that the phonebook company so thoughtfully provided. In a flash, he stood before the entrance of the Daily Planet.

The building was different. This Planet was an old granite Art Deco period building instead of made up of steel and glass. The whole neighborhood around the Planer felt less urban than the gritty, high-traffic area he remembered. Inside everything was different too. A guard sat at the desk not really paying attention during what looked like a shift change. Clark went to the bank of elevators and rode one to the newsroom floor.

The doors slid open and even though it was after nine on a Friday night, all the lights were on and a small crowd was listening intently to the instructions barked from a grey haired man with his shirt sleeves rolled up. One by one, the crowd peeled off to carry out their orders until just three people stood with the man obviously in charge. Clark listened in as the youngest in the group excitedly informed "Mr. White" that the Justice department had confirmed their allegations.

Mr. White pumped his fist in the air, shouted, "Take that Mindy Church!" and then gesturing wildly, turned to the well-dressed couple standing with him. "This is big, so ah, I need to have your notes right away and the article written in my hands ASAP." The striking brunette assured him they would have it finished in twenty minutes. He threw his hands up in the air, "Then what are you waiting for?" Clark watched the couple go to one of the nearby desks and huddle together over the keyboard rapidly making final additions. The whole room thrummed with energy. Chloe had to be here. She loved when a big scope hit the newsroom and the editor called in everybody to make sure it made it to the front page by the next edition.

Clark looked around the newsroom but did not spot Chloe. He walked down the few steps that separated the elevators from the bullpen and headed toward the back of the room and other more likely places to find an intern's desk. He was passing Mr. White as he finished giving instructions to "Jimmy". The name startled Clark. He looked again at the errand boy. The Planet must have more than one Jimmy on the payroll, because Clark didn't recognize him. A moment later Jimmy called out, "Hey, wait a minute." Jimmy grinned at him and asked, "Can I help you? You look like you're looking for someone."

"Yes, could you tell me where is Chloe Sullivan's desk?"

Jimmy scrunched up his forehead thinking. "Chloe Sullivan, I don't recognize the name. Is she new?"

Clark felt that little bit of panic again, "No, she's been at the Planet for more than a year."

"Ok, let me just check the list, what did you say your name was?"

"Clark Kent"

Jimmy looked up from the clipboard he was holding. "Kent? If you're looking for Clark Kent, he's over there with Lois. But you'd better not disturb them until after they turn in that article or Perry will have my head."

Clark looked where Jimmy pointed him. He saw that couple from before. Did Jimmy just say Clark Kent was over there? For a brief moment, he expected to see himself. Instead, he saw someone around ten years older and who (except for the dark hair) looked nothing like the face Clark stared at every morning in the mirror. The guy was even wearing glasses. Clark dismissed it from his mind. "So, do you have Chloe listed?"

Jimmy shook his head, "Sorry man, I don't see her name any where on the list." At Clark's look of confusion he added, "Look, maybe I'm wrong, but I usually make it a point to get to know all of the ladies around here. A guy's got to know the playing field if you know what I mean." When he didn't get a guy-to-guy look of understanding, he turned and gestured toward to two reporters finishing up. "If you want to wait, I can check with them. Lois has been here for years and Clark has knack for knowing what's going on." Jimmy laughed, "What Lane and Kent don't know ain't worth knowing."

"Clark Kent and Lois Lane?"

Jimmy was surprised how puzzled the guy seemed. He turned toward the bullpen where they were working and said, "Yeah, in the flesh." He felt a breeze and when he turned back to the visitor, he was gone. "Where'd he go?"


	2. Can't go home again

_Authors note: The set that was used for the city of Smallville on the show Lois &Clark is now the set used for Stars Hollow, CT of Gilmore Girls fame. I couldn't help but make cheesy comments. (For the trivia buff, it was also used on Dukes of Hazard.)_

Clark, he told himself, you are not in Kansas anymore. He wondered if the arrival of his sense of humor was a good sign or an indication he was going off the deep end. Maybe he was part of a collective delusion, a massive hallucination. How else could he explain Metropolis perched on the edge of the Atlantic Ocean? Even more disturbing, what were the chances that a couple of ace reporters at the Planet also went by the name of Lane and Kent? Clark zipped away from the east coast toward America's heartland and tried to recall what Chloe had said about those two grad students they were investigating. He remembered her saying they were Sci-fi dreamers with reality issues. What did that mean?

He relaxed a tiny bit when Kansas was where it was suppose to be and a bit more when he found Smallville in place too. However, the familiar Smallville billboard with meteors streaking from the sky was missing. As he flashed through town, he noticed other differences: the Talon didn't exist, there was a gazebo in town square, and the whole town just looked quainter. More like a little community tucked away in some Connecticut hollow. The stars were bright and he took comfort in their unchanging familiarity.

Just outside of town, he realized the very land beneath his feet was different. He turned in a circle and scanned the vista until the curvature of the earth obstructed his view. The hills that concealed the caves weren't there. He ex-rayed the ground and discovered no trace of the caves.

Even more surprising, he found no trace of the once abundant meteor rock. The second meteor shower had scattered even more kryptonite in Smallville's fields. Clark wished he felt the absence of the deadly stuff a positive point, but it was just another sign that he wasn't where he belonged. He headed home with little hope of finding it unchanged.

No matter the changes in the landscape, his feet still unerringly brought him home; down the dusty drive, past cows grazing in the fields to the battered red mailbox that proclaimed the Kents still lived here. It didn't matter that some of the out buildings were different or that the farmhouse wasn't painted its customary cheerful yellow. Something about this place called to him saying, don't worry, everything will be fine. He knew his mom had a lot to do with that feeling. Everything familiar was strange and he longed for the warmth, peace, and strength he drew from her.

The door was unlocked and he stepped through into unfamiliar surroundings, but also to the satisfying aroma of a freshly baked apple pie cooling on the counter. "Mom," he called when no one was in the kitchen. He called out again, "Mom, are you home?"

"Clark, honey, is that you? I'm upstairs sorting through pictures."

Talking at the same time, Clark made his way up the steps. "Mom, something really strange is happening. Everything is different and I can't find Chloe…" He trailed off when a cheery looking woman with grey hair in a chin length bob looked up. "You're not my mother."

She smiled and said, "No dear, I don't think I am, but that's ok. I thought you were my son for a moment. Who were you looking for?"

"Martha Kent, Senator Kent. She lives here."

The woman hesitated, cocked her head in concern, and slowly answered, "I am Martha Kent." She watched as the face on the handsome young man fell.

Shaking his head in disbelief he said, "You can't be. I'm looking for the Martha Kent that was married to Jonathan Kent."

Looking nervous, she stood and set aside her box of photos. "Jonathan is my husband and has been for the last forty years. Maybe we should go see him now; he's just out in the shed and should be coming in any minute." They both heard the downstairs door open and close.

"He's alive?" Clark asked and at her puzzled nod, he raced downstairs heedless of the knowledge that this Jonathan would not be his. Still, disappointment crashed when a rotund man with thinning grey hair greeted him with surprise. Clark didn't know what to do next, where to go, whom to look for when he noticed a group picture on the wall. It was obvious from the way everyone was dressed he was looking at a wedding photo. He recognized the bride and groom as the couple from the Daily Planet. Lane and Kent, that's who Jimmy said they were. He sought confirmation. "That picture, whose wedding was it, who's the couple getting married?"

The women calling herself Martha Kent came the rest of the way down the stairs. She saw the wary confusion on her husband's face and the desperate need for answers on the face of the young stranger. "That is our son Clark and his wife Lois Lane. They just celebrated their first anniversary last month." If anything, more confusion and disbelief darkened his face.

What the women told him was overwhelming. His mind couldn't come to grips with the ramifications of her statement. He zeroed in on one of the biggest flaws in the picture. "If this is supposed to be Lois's wedding, where is Chloe? Chloe Sullivan. The Lois I know wouldn't have gotten married with out her there."

"I'm sorry dear, but Lois has never mentioned anyone named Chloe." She thought for a moment, "If you say you know Lois, why didn't you recognize her in the picture?"

Clark wasn't paying attention to her questions. "Lex Luthor, maybe he is somehow behind this," Clark muttered half to himself.

"I don't see how, Lex Luthor is dead." The grey haired man said.

Dead, Lex was dead; they were practically enemies but it still hurt.

"Who are you? Why are you asking all these questions?"

"Sorry, I've got to go," he said and went out the front door. They followed closely behind, but by the time they reached the porch, he had vanished.

"Martha, I think we had better call Clark about this."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Chloe schooled the jumble of information Victor and Milton heaped on her and tried to put it in order. "So from what you said, every item gives off a unique signature and every universe gives off a unique vibration or frequency."

Not unexpectedly, Milton interrupted to whine, "It's not that simple."

Chloe set her teeth and started again, "But at the most basic, am I right?"

"I guess," Victor sullenly conceded.

Chloe went on. "Normally you tag an item or person with a device that would boost the signature given off and from that signal you would calibrate the device to slip open that world and pull out who/what you want to retrieve. So a signal is given off whether or not the tag is added."

"Yes, but our equipment isn't powerful enough to detect it out of all the other millions and billions of signatures out there." Victor complained.

"So make it stronger."

Milton interrupted again, "It's not that simple."

"But not impossible." Chloe prompted.

"If I had the right parts and a suitable energy source and had the time...

Victor and Milton exchanged guilty looks and Chloe got a bad feeling. "What aren't you telling me?"

"The tag did more than just boost the signature, it held it stable. Without it, your friends signal will realign to the universe he is in and will be undetectable within a week."

A week, they only had a week. Ok, still not the time to show fear, Chloe thought to herself and goaded them on, "Are you telling me you two geniuses aren't smart enough to do it in time?"

Victor started sputtering and Milton leapt to his feet. "Getting it done in time isn't the problem. All this won't do any good."

Chloe took a step closer and lowered her voice. Practically chewing her words, she growled, "Why not?"

Thoroughly intimidated and ashamed a small blond female could accomplish that, Milton sat back down and told Victor to explain. Victor answered hesitantly, waiting for the explosion, "We can probably get a hold of the right parts and then tap directly into the power plant. Putting it all together is going to take some time and though we might meet the deadline, it will not do any good."

"Why not?" repeated Chloe feeling a shooting pain behind her eyes.

"Because the power required finding his signal is too strong. When we pull him back, he will act as the focus of the energy. He'd be back, but there is a better than fifty percent chance that the electric shock will kill him on return."

Chloe wanted to smile in relief, finally, some good news. Clark would not even feel a tingle. She forced her expression to appear suitably serious and said, "We'll just have to take our chances."


	3. Meet Chloe

Clark Kent, part of the Daily Planet's dynamic duo of Lane & Kent, leaned back in his chair feeling the satisfaction that only comes after the hot scoop is on its way to the presses. The facts checked, the copy written, and nothing to do but revel in the moment and breathe in the scents of stale coffee, newsprint, and Lois's newest perfume. He was happy and pleased to hear his mother's voice when he answered his phone.

"Clark, are you busy?"

"No, I'm just waiting for Lois to get back from Perry's office; then we're done for the night."

"You sound like you're in a good mood."

"It's been a good day. The city is quiet, we just turned in a story that has made Perry very happy, and I won the toss; so Lois is not cooking tonight." He leaned back again and folded his arms behind his head. "Yes, all in all, life is pretty good"

Martha smiled, Clark's happiness meant so much to her. "Well, I hate to risk spoiling your mood, but something odd just happened."

Clark sat up and quickly asked, "Are you alright? Is Dad OK?"

"Yes, we're both fine. I'm not sure there is really anything to worry about, just confusing."

Jonathan jumped in on the conversation, "What you mother is trying to say is we had a rather strange visitor."

"Who?"

Martha answered, "That's just it Clark. Neither your father nor I have ever met the boy, but he was looking for his mother." Martha paused for effect, "His mother, Martha Kent."

"What? He said you were his mother?"

"No. He took one look at me and said I wasn't his mother."

Clark sat back in his chair and ran a hand through his hair. "I'm confused"

"So am I and I was there. Clark, he walked right in as if he expected to find his mother sitting where I sat. When I told him I was Martha Kent, he said, no, he was looking for his mother Senator Martha Kent who was married to Jonathan Kent."

"Senator? I'm still confused."

"Then when I suggested we go down and talk to your father, he was surprised Jonathan was still alive."

"What? Did he try to hurt you, threaten you?" Clark asked, growing more concerned.

Jonathan reassured him, "No son, but I've never seen anyone look so disappointed to see me. He wasn't angry, just sad and resigned."

"Then what happened?"

"He got very interested in your and Lois's wedding photo." His father continued, "You know the one with your Mom and I and Lois's parents? Well, he first demanded to know who you were and then insisted that Lois would have had someone named Chloe Sullivan at her wedding."

"Come to think of it, when he first came in, he mentioned a Chloe too," his mother added. She filled Clark in on the rest and then finished her tale with the stranger's abrupt and complete disappearance.

Lois returned while Clark was still on the phone. As she sipped her coffee, Jimmy flagged her over.

"Hey Lois, you got a sec?"

"Sure Jimmy, what's up?"

"Just a question, do you know someone who works here by the name of Chloe Sullivan?"

"I don't think so." Lois smirked and teasingly jabbed Jimmy in the arm. "Why, is she cute? She must be. New and probably cute as a button, just waiting for you to show her the ropes. So, do you need me to put in a good word for you? What department is she in?" Lois continued to smile and sip her coffee.

Jimmy chuckled, "No, you've got it all wrong. A guy stopped by looking for her."

"Did you get his name?"

"Naw, but he mentioned Clark."

"I'll ask him about it."

Lois walked over to where Clark sat, still on the phone and was very surprised to hear him say, "No Mom, I've never heard Lois mention anyone named Chloe Sullivan."

Lois hastily interrupted, "Clark, what's going on?"

Clark noticed Jimmy nearby and kept his answer simple. "Someone stopped by the farm looking for Chloe Sullivan. Do you know her?"

"No, but Jimmy just told me some guy came here looking for the same person."

Clark quickly spoke into the phone, "Hang on a minute Mom." He then called Jimmy over.

"Yeah C.K.?"

"This guy that stopped by, describe him."

Jimmy shrugged, "Tall, six feet and then some. Dark hair, built like a football player. My age or younger. Oh, and he was wearing a blue shirt with a red jacket. I remember thinking Superman colors."

Clark turned his attention back to the phone. "Did you get all that?"

"Clark," his mother said, "that has to be the same person."

"Jimmy, what day did he come by?" Clark queried.

"Today, he was here no more than twenty minutes ago." Jimmy looked back and forth between Lois and Clark. "Is something wrong?"

Clark was starting to think so but reassured Jimmy anyway, "No, nothing's wrong, but if he comes back let us know right away."

"Sure thing," Jimmy promised and then went back to work. Clark ended his phone call with his parents while Lois, completely consumed with curiosity scooted her chair close to Clark and begged for details. Clark brought her up to speed.

"But how could someone," Clark asked, "go from Metropolis to Smallville in fewer than twenty minutes."

"Well," responded Lois flippantly, "you do it all the time." She settled back to think. "Ooh, clones, one in Kansas and one here."

Clark shook his head. "That wouldn't explain his quick disappearance at the farm."

"What if someone came back from New Krypton? Maybe he…" she trailed off changing her mind. "No, that wouldn't explain the thing with looking for his mother and where would Chloe Sullivan fit in?"

Clark thought for a moment. "Dad said he seemed certain you should know her. Does the name ring any bells, anything at all?"

"Clark, the only Chloe I know is a stuffed rabbit the color of cotton candy." Lois rolled in her chair over to her desk, opened the bottom drawer, and pulled out a shoebox. "Meet Chloe," she said returning to Clark's desk and pulling out an obviously loved toy rabbit.

Clark laughed and asked, "Lois, why do you have a pink bunny in your desk?"

"Cause Chloe lives at the Daily Planet," she answered matter of fact. Clark raised a single eyebrow. "Look, I've had her since I was four or five." She smoothed a hand over Chloe's worn fur and unconsciously made her do a few hops on the desk. "I used to constantly ask my parents, where is Chloe? Then I would try to persuade them to take me to the Daily Planet where I was certain she lived."

"Shows good instincts, even when you were little you wanted to investigate."

"Well, I've gotten a lot better. I drove my mother crazy since Chloe was always right where I had left her, sitting on my shelf, never really lost. When I got the job at the Planet it just seemed fitting that Chloe finally move in."

Touched and still a little in awe that the women before him was his wife, Clark caressed her jaw and then tilted her head to meet his kiss.

"Get a room!" Jimmy shouted and did cat calls.

They broke apart grinning. Back to business, Lois tenderly returned Chloe to her box and tucked away. "I don't suppose our mystery man was looking for my Chloe. Nothing in these drawers are important to anyone else."

With a lascivious gleam in his eyes and tilt to his smile, Clark wagged his eyebrows and said, "I don't know, I think getting into your drawers is pretty important to me."

Lois's jaw dropped. Repressing the urge to giggle, she mock scolded him. "I can't believe that just came out of your mouth. That was a terrible joke."

"Who's joking?" Clark laughed and put up his hands in self -defense when Lois jabbed his shoulder. "Hey, I thought it was pretty good."

"That is why you are a superhero, not a comedian."


	4. The next morning

Chloe shut the door firmly behind her. She just needed a minute, five minutes at the most, to collect herself. Cautiously, she placed her bag on the bathroom counter and fumbled with the cold-water faucet. She bent to splash some water on her face and realized she wouldn't be able to hold on. She was going to be sick.

Immediately, she spun about and fell to her knees, violently retching bile and bitter coffee into the toilet bowl. The spasms left her weak, shaking and pathetically grateful to Victor's germaphobe habits. Waiting to regain her strength and hoping another round of dry heaves weren't on the way; Chloe took the time to appreciate the cleanliness of the floor. Even if the bathroom had been a typical example of male hygiene, she still would not have had the strength to stand any sooner.

She was so scared. For six hours now, she had fooled Victor and Milt; convincing them she had no doubts about their success and no qualms about destroying them if they failed. She bullied, threatened, and in turn, stroked their egos and sought to challenge their scientific curiosity. To bring Clark back she desperately needed their help. She couldn't save him on her own and she couldn't stand guard over their every action for the next week. They had to be willingly working toward the solution.

For the past six hours, Chloe put every cell of her being into turning two brilliant fools into zealots for her cause. Channeling every encounter she'd ever had with Lionel Luther, Chloe cultivated terror and greed and let it grow into a desirable fruit. She promised Victor and Milt the kind of contacts that would assure the realization of their dreams…if they succeeded. She guaranteed their humiliation and hinted at physical consequences if they did not. Both were now eager to triumph over the odds. Chloe supposed taking their creation's core processor as ransom helped too.

She could do it, everything promised to them, and she would keep her promises, but Clark's disappearance was the only solid reason Chloe had for believing anything of their research. Clark was gone because of her. If her curiosity over the rumors surrounding their work hadn't been so intense, she would have turned in her article exposing their fraudulent use of grant money yesterday. The only reason Clark was at the wrong place at the wrong time was her need for the whole story, the whole truth. She cursed herself again for bringing Clark along. A good reporter sometimes took risks, but that was her choice. She should have been the one lost, not Clark.

What if Milt and Victor were wrong? What if this crazy sounding alternate universe theory really was as crazy as it was sounding? Could something entirely different have happened to Clark? Was she looking for answers in all the wrong places? These were the doubts that made her sick to her soul.

There was no one for Chloe to turn to. Mrs. Kent was out of the state for the week and Chloe could not get through to her. She did not dare contact Lois since she was all gung ho in exposing secrets and Chloe couldn't trust her to not cause more harm than good. Jimmy might be able to help with some of the logistics of getting parts, but she doubted he was up to the truth. Lex, Lana, and Lionel weren't even worth considering. No, she was on her own and she had to trust her gut. Her aching heart overflowed with fear and anxiety, but her gut told her she was on the right course to bring Clark home.

Five minutes were up.

Chloe pulled herself up off the floor and went back to the sink. She calmly twisted on the faucets, washed, splashed water on her face and rinsed out her mouth. Looking in the mirror, Chloe saw that her gaze was steady and confident. She checked the vital component safely nestled in her bag and then opened the bathroom door. Time to get back to work, Chloe thought, no time to second-guess herself.

She had a hero to save.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Clark sat on a park bench in the early morning hours as Metropolis began waking up. Not that Metropolis ever really curled up and went to sleep, but the predawn morning hours felt different from the deep silence of the night. Like a breath being held, Clark felt anticipation for the new day. Metropolis was not offering a new beginning but a new awakening, inviting all to explore the fresh dreams that visited during slumber. Where fleeting ideas take hold and where possibilities are reborn.

Dawn on the farm usually came gently, softly. A ray of light peeking through the woods, a rooster doing his duty, and the light metallic clinks and clacks of feeding pails being emptied. Metropolis, instead of starting slowly or gently, was like a full piece orchestra tuning discordantly. Sounds grew and rose, weaving unexpectedly until some unseen signal from the conductor launched the power of the symphony. That moment just before everything found its rythm, that was Clark's favorite moment.

Joggers began filling the paths and shortly after the street vendors rolled into place, the bold aroma of coffee wafted through the air and snapped Clark out of his trance. Coffee meant Chloe and with a twist of emotions, Clark acknowledged he was afraid he might never see her again.

After leaving the Kent farm in Smallville, Clark checked one last place. Jor-el's presence had departed the Fortress of Solitude in his world, but perhaps, he thought, it remained active in this one. He sped across the continent, life just a frozen image he moved past until he reached the frigid flats that hosted Krypton on Earth. He found nothing but the screaming wind. No jutting ice pillars, no repository of ancient knowledge, not even a wrinkle or bump to mar the smooth, icy wasteland. After a search to confirm its absence, he returned to Metropolis to await morning.

Chasing after the familiar brought him no closer to answers and only confirmed that virtually everything was different. Since he didn't think he was crazy (ah, but the crazy never do) he was left with few alternatives or explanations. When the possible is ruled out, what remained, however improbable, must be explored and while he had conducted his futile search of the Arctic, Clark pondered the possibilities.

He was trapped in a world that imperfectly echoed his own. That and the mere presence of another Clark Kent from Smallville had him considering the possibility of being in a parallel universe. But how would he get home? It might have been easier just to be crazy.

He needed to learn more about this admittedly crazy concept and decided to find a public library with internet access. He would try to understand the prevailing theories, if this world had any, and do a search on the two inventors who most likely had a major part in his unexpected travel plans. He reasoned that they too would have counterparts and if he was very lucky, they might have a clue about how he could get back home.

Home. He hadn't been gone all that long, but it seemed so far away. His mother was out of town, but Chloe must be going out of her mind, he thought even as it also occurred to him she would be working on her end to bring him back. Chloe would never give up. Then a troubling thought came. What if she was lost too? Or worse, what if they tried to hurt her and he wasn't there to stop them. He couldn't just sit in the middle of the city and wait for the libraries to open. Clark needed to spring to action now. Anything kind of action would be better than sitting and feeling helpless.

Clark looked over the crowds that were now filling the park at Metropolis's center. Though it was Saturday, a well-dressed business class was mixing with the athletic enthusiasts and enterprising vendors. Many were using the park as a shortcut through the city, just as they did back in his world. In his Metropolis, the park also was a haven for muggers and pickpockets.

He spotted his would be purse-snatcher lurking in the deep shadows formed by a dense outcropping of trees just around the bend of the path. Clark zoomed his sight in on him. This watcher was waiting for the proper quarry: his eyes erratic and darting, his hands flexing and clenching, and his scuffed running shoes shifting restlessly. Clark caught the quick stiffening from the man that signaled he had made his choice of victim as well as the flash of light glinting on the metal blade he pulled from a sheath at his side.

As Clark leapt to his feet, he saw the man in the shadows lunge forward and swipe his blade through the strap of a black leather purse before turning and fleeing. The target shouted in protest and started running after, but her high heels hampered her stride. Clark sped to the other side of the park. He came out of his super speed into a tackle that knocked the thief off his feet. Though Clark took care not to hit any harder than he had back when he played football, the air whooshed out of the assailant's lungs and once on the ground he did not move. Clark felt grimly satisfied.

"You caught him!" The owner of the stolen purse caught up with them. "Wow, you came out of nowhere."

Clark picked up the fallen purse, stood and turned to face the women. His stomach clenched and his jaw dropped. It was the same women from the Daily Planet. This world's Lois Lane. He took a step back instinctively.

"Wait, can I have my purse back?" Lois wondered why the hero of the moment was acting so nervous and guilty all of a sudden.

Clark looked down at the bag in his hand. He'd forgotten he was still holding it. "Sure, sorry," he mumbled and gave it to her.

"Thanks." She took it and quickly opened it to make sure her disc was safe. Most of the research she did last night lead to dead ends, but she didn't want to start all over. When she looked up, she found the young man looking at her strangely, like she was a puzzle. Her first thought was he recognized her from the paper, but his expression said something more. A moment later, it clicked. "Blue shirt, red jacket. Built like a football player. You tackled…" She stopped as he tensed.

What was she saying? Clark didn't think it a good idea to find out. "I've got to be going." By now, a crowd of people was coming toward them, bringing a policeman to take care of the mugger. He couldn't risk super speed without being caught, but he turned and started to walk rapidly away.

"Wait! Stop! " He was ignoring her. "You were at the Planet and at Martha and Jonathan's farm." He hesitated a moment but kept going. Lois took a chance. She hurried after him calling, "Let me help you."

Clark didn't stop but called over his shoulder, "I don't think you can."

He wasn't running, but still she couldn't keep up. She couldn't let him get away. "Wait!" She called and then moved to frustration, played a hunch. She shouted, "CLARK KENT! You stop right this instant!"


	5. To the Planet

_Author's note: Sorry this is so short, hope to have the next chapter(s) up real soon._

"CLARK KENT! You stop right this instant."

He stopped.

Lois's heart was pounding as she scrambled to reach him. He stood stiffly with his back still to her. She was right. Her wild notion had to be true.

"I'm right aren't I?" She asked quietly as she advanced closer. "You're Clark Kent from Smallville, KS; just not this world's Smallville." His silence went on even as she came to stand in front of him. He didn't look down, but continued to stare at a spot above her head, locked in inner conflict. She mused ruefully out loud, "It's got to be true, although the age thing does confuse me and really, you two don't look anything alike," she paused and goaded him just a little. "But, I'm guessing you still share a few unique characteristics. Like the kind that lets you go from Metropolis to Smallville in under twenty minutes."

He dropped his gaze to meet hers. His remote expression was startling. For a second, Lois worried that this different Clark might be too different. What if the instant trust she felt was foolish? If Clark, her Clark, wasn't so compassionate and accepting of human frailties, if he had a different nature, he had the power to become a monster. She studied the Clark in front of her closer and soon saw how poorly his mask stayed in place.

For a heartbeat, she clearly read the emotions running across his features. Frustration, confusion, amusement, apprehension, and most compelling, hope. Her own apprehension melted away. Lois placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'm offering you our help, but you're going to have to take a chance and trust us."

Clark nodded, sighed and glanced around. "I have a lot of questions, but I think we need to have that conversation farther away from here."

Lois agreed. This would be a bad time to get involved with the authorities and she rather doubted Clark Jr. possessed the proper ID. "Come on," She started leading him out of the park."

"Where are you taking me?"

"To the Planet."

"Isn't that kind of public?"

"Almost no one will be there and I need to do more research. Anyway, Clark is meeting me there later this morning." Lois kept up a brisk pace and Clark was busy processing this turn of events. Outside the Daily Planet, they paused so Lois could get a non-fat latte at a little stand. At his perplexed look, Lois scrunched her brow and asked, "What?"

"It's just, you seem pretty calm about this, not asking questions and even stopping for coffee." He shrugged. "I'm still trying to keep from freaking out."

"Oh, I'm doing a little freaking out myself, believe me. But, well, this isn't the first time I've dealt with an AU Clark and the coffee at the Planet on Saturdays is virtually undrinkable. You know, got to keep your priorities straight." She saluted Clark with her cup before exclaiming, "Oh, what was I thinking," and went back to the stand and ordered him a double mocha Grande with whipped cream.

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As he monotonously shifted rocks and timbers left behind from the landslide, he unblocked the valley's entrance and reflected on the peculiar events back in Metropolis. After picking up dinner from Thailand, they pulled out their laptops and made inquiries from home. Lois concentrated on tracking down the mysterious Chloe Sullivan while he sought supporting evidence for the theories they postulated. So far, he had come to predictable dead ends on all scenarios (clones, robots, hallucinations, visitors from New Krypton). At the same time, Lois also suffered from a lack of leads. He was amazed Lois found only three Chloe Sullivan's in all of the US plus one Chloe O'Sullivan in Ireland, none who fit the profile of a fledgling journalist.

This morning Lois headed over to the Planet, intent on using its resources to dig deeper. With the identity of the visitor still unresolved, Clark hesitated over Lois being by herself but she refused to be intimidated or as she put it, hide at home. He took comfort at least in her promise to stay out of the park where a recent rash of muggings occurred.

He used the fallen boulders to strengthen the valley's sloping walls and used his heat vision to fuse them together. The passage way should be a reliable road in all kinds of weather now. Superman made his farewells and flew back to Metropolis.

He landed on the roof of the Daily Planet and made a quick change in the stairway. He took the elevator down to the bullpen and was still fiddling with his tie when the doors opened. Lois came rushing to meet him before he had it fixed. Obviously pleased over something, she was grinning widely when she linked their arms and steered him toward a meeting room without so much as a greeting. "What's going on?" Clark asked laughing over her enthusiasm.

"Look what I found this morning." Lois pointed through the small window on the conference room door. Clark saw someone scanning through archived editions of the Daily Planet. It looked like Superman played most heavily in the headlines. Clark looked closer at the man doing the search. He fit Jimmy's description. Clark pulled Lois away from the door for an explanation.

"Is that the.."

"Uh huh," Lois interrupted nodding.

"How did you find him? Who is he?"

"In the park, he caught the guy who stole my purse. When I realized who he was, I got him to come back with me." Lois was too busy peeking around Clark's shoulders to see what the other Clark was doing to catch what she let slip.

"You were in the Park." Clark said only slightly surprised.

Lois cringed. "I'm sorry, but these new shoes hurt, so I was taking the short cut. The next thing I knew, my purse was snatched and this one here tackled the guy."

Clark knew it was next to useless to lecture Lois on her safety, but still felt compelled to ask, "Do you think it was really such a good idea to confront him alone?"

"Clark, I think I can trust this one." Lois rubbed her hands up Clark's biceps and linked them behind his neck.

Trying not to be too distracted he asked, "Why, what did you find out? Who is he?"

Lois smiled and leaned closer to whisper in his ear, "He's you."


	6. No, really Who is he?

His senses were often befuddled while Lois was in his arms, but he was sure he was not imagining it when she said _he_ was the mystery man. Clark jerked back, "What? No, that's not possible. How?"

"Alternate Universe." At Clark's blank stare, she waved her hands, dismissing his disbelief. "It's true. It's just a different Clark than the one I've met before."

"You can say that again." Clark looked back at the man in the conference room. He certainly did not see any resemblance.

"Look, I don't have all the details yet. We kind of got off track when I said you were in Malaysia following up on storm damage."

"You told him that?" He was more than a little stunned.

Lois hurried to reassure him, "Yes, but only after I had proof of who he was."

"Proof," he asked skeptically cocking his head to one side, "what kind of proof?"

She ticked off her reasons holding up a finger for each one. "One, we know that Martha and Jonathan Kent were his parents."

"So he says."

"Don't interrupt. Two, I was there when he tackled the mugger. I have been around Superman enough; I know what coming out of super speed looks like. Three, the shock he got when I called out his name." Lois noticed that Clark continued to look unconvinced. "If you had been there you'd believe me." She said and poked him in the chest.

Clark grunted and listened as she finished her reasons.

"Four, He drank his double mocha Grande right away, didn't need to let it cool. And you know how hot Marty makes those and five, well," Lois clenched her fist and pressed it against her stomach. "Five, I just feel it in my gut. We have to help him."

Clark sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. Usually number five on her list was good enough for him, but he did not want to admit it yet. "Why is he in there reading about Superman?" He asked pointing.

"He didn't know what Superman was. Oh, that's six."

"How so?"

"Well it's like I was saying, we got to the Planet and he asked when you were going to be here and I told him I wasn't sure since you were in Malaysia and he asked if you were on a story. I corrected myself and said really Superman was in Malaysia and he said, what's Superman."

"So you set him up with your scrapbook?" He asked sarcastically.

"Well, it's kind of hard to explain Superman in a few words."

"I'm guessing secret identity wasn't among them," he commented sourly, more for form than any other reason.

"Hush. I was trying to explain how the world perceives Superman and so people logically would never assume you two were the same person."

Clark grinned over her discomfort. Her previous blindness to his identity was still a sore point. "He didn't buy it?"

Lois frowned, "Never mind, now, are we going to help him or not?" She placed her hands on her hips and waited for his answer.

Clark knew that they would, but liked teasing her, "How do you even know he wants help?"

"Now you're just stalling. Oh…Hello Clark." Lois flushed and looked a little guilty when the door to the conference room opened and the other Clark stepped out.

Clark pushed up his glasses and took a good look at his doppelganger. They were supposed to be the same person? Obviously not in looks, but what about their past? What about hopes and dreams, likes and dislikes? What was it like for him to grow up? His train of thought was derailed when his would be impersonator spoke.

"Look, I'm sorry to interrupt; I thought I just should mention I can hear you."

Lois cringed a bit, "I suppose you heard all that," she gestured vaguely.

"Most of it," Clark shrugged, "Super hearing."

Lois held up another finger, "Number Seven."

"Ok, I give. Let's just go talk."

All three of them filed into the conference room and Clark retook his seat next to the computer screen. Lois sat down opposite him. Her husband closed the door and leaned against it. Since he was studying him, Clark took the chance to do so likewise.

He saw just an ordinary man. One he would never have looked twice at if not for his name. One who was married to Lois Lane. This had to be one hell of an alternate reality for that to be true.

Not that this Lois was so bad, it just seemed so unreal that any set of circumstances could rearrange his life so dramatically that romance and Lois Lane would be thought of at the same time. Sure, Lois didn't bug him nearly as much as she used to, but when he was around her it still felt like he was dealing with an unwished for sister.

Besides, if he dated Lois, then he would have to give up any future opportunity with Chloe. She and Lois _were_ like sisters, and he was aware there were lines that could not be crossed. Maybe he and Chloe were not now together in a romantic way and who knew what the future would bring, but to lose even the possibility was too much to risk.

However, if he did not get home, he would certainly lose any chance. He needed to make progress. The time had come to find out if these two could help.

"Not to sound ungrateful, but how _did_ you know that I needed help?" He asked.

Clark looked to his wife for an answer too. Lois smirked and then said, "It's simple really. You were traveling near and far looking for familiar people and were genuinely upset when you didn't find who you were looking for. That and I know I certainly wanted help when I got sent to a parallel universe."

Clark leaned forward in his seat, "You've traveled to an alternate universe? How did you get back home?" He asked eagerly.

"H.G. Wells got the time machine back from Tempus and…" She trailed off when Clark looked at her as if she was crazy. Her Clark just chuckled before pulling out the seat next to hers and sitting down. "It might sound crazy, but believe me it really happened."

Clark glanced at the couple sitting across from him and saw the man sometimes known as Superman nod to confirm his wife's story. "Do you still have this machine? Can I use it to get home?" He asked Lois.

"No, I'm sorry. It's gone. Maybe you should tell us how you got here,"

Clark shrugged. "A lot of it is pretty unclear. One minute I was in Met U's basement helping Chloe look into an unregistered lab and then there was a flash of light, the basement is empty, and I can't find Chloe. Oh, and also I noticed an Ocean next to Metropolis."

"Why was that odd?" Lois asked.

"In my world, Metropolis is nowhere near the ocean or the east coast."

"It's not? Where is it?"

"It's in Kansas, about three hours from Smallville, though lately it doesn't seem that far away to anyone."

"Metropolis, in Kansas?" Lois sputtered in horror. "That's just about the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. What is it, population 638? Does that include the cows?"

Clark was not offended, but thought Chloe would have been to hear someone accuse her beloved Metropolis of being a rural hick town. "No, Metropolis is one of the largest cities in the World. It's as big an industry and financial player as New York or Los Angeles. You do _have_ a New York city?"

"Yes we do, but let me guess, your New York is in Minnesota. Oh and LA is in Ohio. Chicago, that would be down in Oklahoma, right?"

"Not the last time I checked, but there is a Paris in Texas as far as I know," he teased.

Clark raised hands to regain the attention of his wife and his alter ego. "We're getting sidetracked. Clark, do you have any idea how you got here?" Clark told them he did not but thought it had to be connected to what Chloe was investigating. He gave them the two names he remembered.

Lois wrote them down. "Victor Davinhoe and Milton Hamlish, we'll see what we can track down on these two names, but first, you have to tell me," she capped her pen, set it down and leaned forward. "Who is Chloe Sullivan?"

Clark looked closely at the Lois Lane sitting across from him. "You really don't know her, do you," he said glumly.

Lois glanced at her Clark; he too noticed the sudden misery that came over the man on the other side of the table. "Who is she? Why were you so certain that I would know her?"

"In my world, Chloe Sullivan is cousins with Lois Lane." Clark waited for a reaction, hopefully some kind of recognition. He saw nothing but mild curiosity. He could not explain to himself why he was so disappointed. This was not his world. Why should it matter if Chloe's twin was here or not? "More than just cousins, they're close, like sisters. Lois is closer to Chloe than she is to Lucy"

"I'm sorry. I don't know anyone like that. I have a lot of cousins, but I've never been real close to any of them."

"Her father is Gabe Sullivan. He would have been married to your Aunt Elizabeth," He prompted, still hoping for a connection.

"No, sorry I don't recognize either…Wait, you said Gabe Sullivan?" Lois tried to remember why that name was familiar. "I think my mother has mentioned that name, but I don't think I was honestly paying much attention. I tend to tune her out when she is speaking on and on about Aunt this or Cousin that," she explained. Then she slumped back in her chair in a huff.

"What's wrong?" Her husband asked with concern.

"What's wrong?" Her face scrunched up in dread. "Now I'm going to have to call my mother."


	7. Conversations

Chloe sat at her desk in the basement of the Daily Planet and sipped her non-fat latte, a treat she always allowed on Saturday when the Planet's coffee was almost undrinkable. She answered phones, did research, filed copy and pretended that nothing was wrong. It occurred to her, she had been here before.

In the aftermath of Dark Thursday, while each hour of Clark's absence amplified the voice deep inside whispering her unutterable fears, she had gone on as if nothing was wrong. She pitched in with the recovery, suppressing doubts and clinging to slivers of hope, just going through the motions while she waited. She did not like waiting, but waiting was what she was reduced to again.

Chloe could hardly believe less than 24 hours had passed since Clark's disappearance. The previous night and most of the morning revolved around planning what happened next. Milton and Victor produced designs and schematics for the new more powerful AU transporter much quicker than she could have hoped. They were even now beginning the redesign on the actual machine. They had only two problems and Chloe was trying to take care of both of them.

Of the adjustments needed to strengthen the transporter, the most crucial element was also the most difficult to acquire. For their initial design, they used an experimental alloy that allowed special conductivity to focus the needed energy in their key component. To produce greater power, and therefore greater ability to receive and recall Clark's signal, the machine needed all the auxiliary conductors replaced with the alloy. The quantity needed was small, but they did not know where to find more. Fortunately, serendipity chose to smile and Chloe had a solid lead. She was waiting for a call from her source now.

As to their other problem, emptying her college savings account this morning was her first attempt at a solution, but she needed to come up with another way to remain solvent as the expenses mounted.

She paused in her thoughts to answer the phone. "Good afternoon, Daily Planet."

"Ms. Sullivan?" Queried a brisk female voice.

"Yes, speaking."

"Ms. Sullivan, I am calling on behalf of Oliver Queen."

Chloe sat at attention, this was the call she was waiting for.

"I am sorry but he is out of the office attending meetings all day and will be leaving for Europe tomorrow."

"Please." She held the phone tightly. "It is very important, I don't need much time, but I must speak with him before he leaves the country."

"As it is urgent, Mr. Queen has left instructions for you to meet him for drinks tonight at the Carrousel Club."

"Here in Metropolis?"

"Yes, be there at 8 pm."

"Drinks at the Carrousel Club, 8 pm. Thank you, I'll be there." Chloe disconnected the call and then dialed Victor's loft where he and Milt were working. She tried to tell herself she was not checking up; just keeping them informed of her progress, but finally mentally conceded she could not take the stress of wondering any longer. Circumstances required her trip to the bank and to the Planet, leaving them alone for the first time since this all began. All signs indicated they were nearly as dedicated to retrieving Clark as she was; yet, the worry persisted.

She worried especially since wiring the sum total of her savings to suppliers. By now the orders they placed and she paid for should be arriving. The phone continued to ring. "Please let them be there, please," she begged to herself. She counted rings: ten, fifteen, and on the twentieth Chloe was grabbing her car keys when Milton answered.

"Dammit, this better be important."

Chloe sat back down, the relief shortly robbing her of speech.

"Crap, I don't need this, I'm hanging up."

"Milton," Chloe interrupted using a crisp authoritative voice that brooked no disrespect. "Give me an update."

Milton gulped. "Sorry Sullivan," he apologized. "Most of the deliveries have arrived. We are uncrating them now. Have you tracked down the alloy?"

Chloe toyed with her phone cord and answered, "Yes, I believe I have. I have an appointment tonight with the client who has exclusive claims on the product."

"What, you found him? Who is it?"

Chloe heard a degree of respect in his voice previously only begrudgingly given. She smiled and kept playing her part in the game. "I don't think you deserve that information, not yet, but I promise on Clark's return to put you in touch."

"Fine," he said not hiding his displeasure. "But remember this; we can't make much progress without the alloy, so the sooner…"

Chloe interrupted. "I am well aware of our time constraints," she said coldly. Milton swallowed audibly and she could even hear Victor working in the background. She let the silence stretch out and imagined him squirming. "I'll contact you when I have a further update."

"Yes, fine. Ok, that sounds…" he was still sputtering when she hung up the phone. She sighed and let the tension drain out of her shoulders and neck. Playing the heavy did not come naturally, but it was working. From the moment Milton picked up the phone, Chloe knew she could let go of her worries, at least for the moment. His ill temper was not going anywhere, but neither was he.

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Lois flung down her purse and stepped out of her heels the moment she crossed the threshold of their townhome. She kicked at the broken purse strap that snaked across the floor and then headed directly to the kitchen without waiting to make sure someone shut the door. She pulled out a diet soda and guzzled it down. The day had been long, but aside from not being able to reach her mother, it had been productive.

She hit the jackpot with the two names alt-world Clark gave her. Both Davinhoe and Hamlish were doing research with Star Labs and would be back tomorrow from their conference. They were delivering the keynote speech entitled "String Theory and its Many Universes." They were all very optimistic about their appointment to see them tomorrow morning.

Lois crumpled her soda can and tossed it in the recycle bin. "I'm going to shower and change, so I'm leaving you two in charge of dinner." She went to the stairs, stopped, and added, "But no pizza, or sushi." She climbed two steps and turned again, "Oh and I'm still tired of Chinese, but I don't just want a sandwich. How about …"

Clark interrupted his wife, "Don't worry Lois, we'll figure something out." He waited until she went up the rest of the stairs before heading to the kitchen.

The other Clark trailed behind confessing, "I'm not that good in the kitchen."

"Really? My mom insisted that I learn at least some basics. I can put together a respectable chicken parmesan."

Clark took off his red jacket and hung it over the back of a kitchen stool. "Well, mine tried, but the third time the cake batter ended up on the ceiling, I kind of got banned."

Clark chuckled and pushed up his glasses. He noticed Clark's interest in his action.

"So, why the glasses? I mean, I guess it's working, but why use them as a disguise?"

"Really it's the other way around. I had been wearing glasses years before Superman came about. They helped me learn how to control my ex-ray and heat vision and then I just got used to wearing them."

"No one ever recognizes you?"

Clark shrugged and started opening a cabinet door, "A few times, but nothing I wasn't able to take care of, well," he gave a chagrined smile, "except for Lois. She eventually figured me out."

"You kept it a secret?"

"Yeah." He took out a skillet and a deep pot. "Tell you the truth though, came pretty close to losing her because of that."

"I understand. I've learned that lesson already." Clark said evenly.

Clark glanced back at the young man in his kitchen. He saw resolve and old pain. "I thought I knew what I was doing. I wanted to make sure that Lois fell for me, rather than that guy who flew around in tights. I almost waited too long." His changed the subject. "Could you pull the chicken out of the freezer?"

Clark turned and easily found what he was looking for. "Like I said before, I'm not much use in the kitchen, but I do know you can't just cook frozen chicken." He handed the package over.

"I'll just thaw it out." Clark set it on the counter. He lowered his glasses and a moment later, the chicken fillets were frost-free. Clark removed the cellophane and transferred them to the skillet.

"I tried to do that for my mom once." Clark grimaced at the memory, "Burnt a hole through the countertop."

"Just takes practice to control and diffuse the energy. I've got at least ten years of practice on you." Clark set the burner on low and left the chicken to cook. He took the other pot over to the sink and began filling it with water. "I wonder why that is? I mean the age difference, not to mention no one is every going to mistake you for my twin."

Clark watched him fill the pot and volunteered some of what he learned that afternoon. "From what I read on parallel universes, the theory is every time we have a choice to make in life, whether it's big like who to marry or small like putting peanut butter instead of jelly on our toast, there is another world somewhere out there where we make the opposite choice and all the resulting consequences - good and bad - play out."

"That's interesting, go on."

"Well, if the opposite decision is just to put peanut butter on the toast instead of jelly, not much will be different in that world. You'd get even fewer changes if you just choose raspberry jam instead of grape jelly."

Clark carried the pot back to the stove and set it to boil. "Ok, from that, I could understand how there are worlds that are almost identical. But, what about your world and mine? There are huge changes. You said no one you've met looks anything like their doubles, but we both are the last survivor of Krypton and we both crashed in Smallville. I'd expect nothing to be similar."

"There are probably worlds like that. We are just in ones that still have similar outside influences, even though the genetic material is different."

As he went to the pantry, Clark said, "That makes sense." He brought out a box of linguini and a jar of obviously home canned red sauce. "My mom said she and my dad agreed to name their first son Clark years before they ever found me. I guess that even if I had arrived at few years old instead of a few months, I'd still be Clark. Speaking of different choices, if you're not set on journalism, maybe you should try philosophy."

Clark laughed. "I might not be sure what my major is going to be, but I can guarantee it's not going to be esoteric quantum physics theories."

"Why don't you explore the culinary arts right now and attempt a salad?"

"Yeah, I can do that."

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Before she left for the Carrousel Club, Chloe stopped to change. The club was situated uptown in Metropolis and stories circulated that if you did not belong, or at least appear to belong, the doorman would not let you out of the car. Therefore, as a precaution, and a thought to using fashion as a form of armor, Chloe pulled out the best of her closet.

She chose a deep purple sheath that hugged her figure to its best advantage. Ever the practical shopper, when worn with its matching jacket, it was perfectly suitable for working at the Planet. But, without the jacket, it went from classically elegant to slinky, leaving her shoulders bare and her back exposed. She quickly put her hair in a twist, secured it with a jeweled comb, and slipped on the three- inch heels she spent half a paycheck and most of her sanity on.

Chloe jumped the first hurdle when the doorman assisted her out of her car and directed one of the valets to park it. The night was warm, but Chloe shivered, unused to being this exposed unless she was at the lake and felt just as awkward over the appreciative looks the male staff gave her.

She rode the elevator to the highest level where the top floor slowly rotated allowing patrons to view the splendor of Metropolis from every angle. The lights of the city sparkled brighter than the cubic zirconia in her hair. The host inquired if he could help her. "I am meeting Oliver Queen for drinks. Has he arrived?"

"I'm sorry but he has not," the host apologized. "Please wait in the Lounge," he instructed and guided her to her destination. The Lounge consisted of plush velvet couches and heavy drapes creating several separate seating areas.

"You'll have to get used to it," came a deep masculine voice from out of the shadows.

With her eyes adjusting to the atmospheric lighting, Chloe now saw someone's arm casually draped along the back of one of the loveseats, but a wine colored curtain still half hid his body and face. A mystery, she thought. Intrigued, Chloe wandered closer and asked lightly, "Get used to what?"

"Waiting, of course," the voice dryly answered.

"For what am I waiting?" She challenged and heard him softly laugh.

"Women and many of their desires remain as much a mystery to me as to any other poor male creature."

"Come now, you seem to possess some strange insight into my future, share what _little_ you _do_ know," Chloe invited as she chose a seat opposite from him. Her close proximity allowed her to see more clearly.

He was dressed in evening clothes. Basic black still ruled the night. She recognized the flash of a genuine diamond clipped on his tie and noticed the custom tailored cut of his jacket. Shadows still blurred his features, but she did not have to see him clearly to feel the vigor and vitality he radiated.

He indolently shook his head. "No clairvoyant powers, just a long standing acquaintance with Ollie and his persistent tendency never to be on time."

"You're a friend of Oliver's?"

He shrugged, "We run in the same circles, conduct business with a like mind."

His words struck a familiar chord. Chloe felt she should know him. "You're having dinner with him tonight?" She guessed.

"Yes. You'll be joining us?" He tilted his head in an inviting manner encouraging her to imagine an invitation to all sorts of things.

Chloe felt herself blush and was grateful to the dim light that concealed her reaction. "No," she answered sharper than she intended. "I just need to speak to Mr. Queen for a moment or two."

"Ah, alone, you mean. Don't worry, I have been known, on several occasions, to play the part of a gentleman and will be certain to let you and Ollie speak about this very private mater."

His insinuations were clear. Chloe had heard plenty of stories about Oliver's constant stream of, to put it delicately, female companions. He had gained quite a reputation as a playboy; one Chloe guessed he cultivated to divert suspicion from his other night activities. "I believe you have misunderstood my relationship with Oliver," she said primly and heard another throaty chuckle come from her mystery man.

"I'm sure you are right, but if I have judged you wrongly, perhaps you have done the same to me."

Chloe heard a note of honesty in his tone, a thread of steel, where only impertinence existed before. She looked at him questioningly.

"Don't deny it. You look at me and see a waste, a man existing at his leisure and only for his pleasure. And you disapprove." His lips curved to form a smile and then he laughed, looser and lighter than before. "Alright, I admit it. I am exactly who you think I am, but don't judge me too harshly. I work very hard to properly spend my family's fortune. New pleasures and distractions can be very difficult to find."

Chloe tilted her head to study him better. In the blink of an eye, the brooding cynic had transformed into a lighthearted charmer. She saw a man of means sprawled elegantly in the lush setting created to amuse the wealthy, an ode to the idle rich; but she also saw something more.

She saw him lightly play with the drapes flowing next to him and heard the smooth material catch on rough calluses not usually found on the pampered hands of the rich. She saw the keen perception in his eyes and a fine tension running through his muscles. Like a wild creature coiled and ready to pounce, he was a man poised for action. Who was this man? Was he just another silver-spoon playboy?

Chloe completed her examination and shook her head. Leaning forward to meet his gaze directly she said, "No. I do _not_ think that is _who_ _you are_ at all." Her words focused all of his attention on her. She could not look away even though it felt like he was trying to see into her soul.

"Careful Bruce, Ms. Sullivan has a habit of ferreting out all kinds of secrets."

Chloe flinched as the sound of Oliver's voice broke whatever kind of spell she was falling under and brought Clark firmly to mind.

"If she is such a dangerous woman," Bruce teased Oliver, "why do you dare her presence?"

Oliver smiled. "Did I mention that she is also very good at keeping them?"

"A rare quality." He replied never taking his gaze from Chloe.

Chloe looked away from Bruce and focused on why she was there, "I sorry Oliver, I don't want to delay your dinner, but if I could speak with you for a few minutes?"

"I should be the one apologizing for my tardiness. Please, why don't you join us for dinner?"

For a second Chloe considered accepting the invitation but then her worry for Clark overtook her. "No, I'm sorry. I simply do not have the time. I only need a moment of yours, Oliver."

Bruce rose from his reclining position in one smooth, swift motion; reminding Chloe once again of a jungle cat. He inclined his head toward her and said, "I'll just give you two that moment of privacy." He then grasped her hand, bent low and brushed his lips across her knuckles. "It has been my pleasure meeting you, Ms. Sullivan. Perhaps we'll meet again." He released her hand and was gone before Chloe could respond.

"I think he likes you."

Chloe was once more grateful to the low lighting that hid her blush. "I'm guessing he likes just about anyone in heels," she snidely commented.

She shook her head and cleared out the muddled feeling he left in her brain. He was a puzzle she could puzzle over another time. Right now, she had to convince Oliver to give her the precious metal alloy needed to save Clark, the same unique compound that made the Green Arrow's weapons so effective. Chloe turned to Oliver and worked her charm.

_Author's note: Yes, it was who you think and sorry, it was just a cameo. He just showed up unexpectedly (seriously- I don't know where he came from) but who am I to send the Dark Knight away. Nightcrusader, I think this one's for you._


	8. Rescue

Everything ended up in the sewer. Rain fell and washed the streets of Metropolis clean, sending dirt, grime, and rank, rotting refuse down into the tunnels below where time transformed all into a thick, viscous, light eating sludge. Clark was glad that the old section of tunnels he was searching was not actively used to channel human waste as well.

The passages were narrow and pervasively damp, a reminder just how close he was to the bay, and while the top of the tunnels should have provided plenty of clearance; a tangle of pipes, new and old, overlapped and competed for space causing him to twist and duck as he super sped past. Lead figured in the composition of most of the old pipes creating massive blind spots when he tried to use his ex-ray vision.

Clark concentrated on opening up all his senses (well, except for smell) and found his regular vision enhanced in the unrelenting dark and picked up the cries of men and the sound of rushing water, so much water. The trapped workers had to be northeast of him. He mentally visualized the map Lois had been poring over while they were waiting for Superman to save the day, and started searching for an existing tunnel to take him where he needed to be. But, as they had feared, too many undocumented changes had been made to the tunnels and time after time, he dead-ended at the seawall built to keep the ocean at bay. He could not break through it or the water would undermine half of Metropolis. He zipped and zagged up and down the corridors feeling like a pinball bouncing from one dead end to the next. Time was running out.

A sliver of doubt crept into his conscious mind. What if he was did not find them in time? They were lost somewhere in the oldest subterranean sections of Metropolis and had already been five hours overdue before their short, static filled transmission had even reached the Metropolis Municipal City Works department. Once the call to the search and rescue team went out, Superman tuned in the message and left his plate of chicken parmesan behind. He and Lois had followed closely behind in her Jeep.

At the City Works building, Lois fished out the details and even obtained a copy of the original map of tunnels where the three inspectors were presumed to be. When Clark Kent the reporter walked up to them instead of Superman, Lois was shocked.

"Clark," she gasped, "what are you doing here?"

Clark grasped her upper arm and gestured to Clark to come too, angling them away from the crowd of police and municipal employees. "I can't stay." He looked deliberately at Lois and at his alternate world self, willing them to understand. "Superman, can't stay." He saw all the questions in Lois's eyes and shook his head. "No time for details."

He switched his focus, "Clark, there are three workers trapped near the seawall. A section of it was cracked and I've stopped it from breaking further, but there's no telling how much water already spilled into those tunnels. We know that the tunnel they are in must be filling rapidly. I don't know just where they are, you'll have to search for them. Can you do this?" He gaze was intense while he waited for a reply.

Clark felt the weight of responsibility shift. He gave a short nod and raced to the Jeep to grab the black hooded sweatshirt he had seen in the backseat and a pair of wraparound sunglasses from the dash. The disguise would have to be good enough. He heard a sonic boom before he made it into the tunnels; Superman was gone. He was on his own.

Time was elusive as he super sped through his search, but at least a minute must have past since he left Lois. He had to be close. Their cries grew more intense and he heard one exclaim, "It's too much water, we're going to drown!" His frustration doubled, still unable to pinpoint their location. Sound bounced off all surfaces, the acoustics diabolically surrounding Clark so even his super senses could not determine which way to go.

When his shoes splashed in water, he came to an abrupt halt at a junction of three tunnels. He looked closer, the water was clearer than the other pools he had sloshed through. The little stream ran out of the second tunnel on his left. Too much time was passing. If the tunnel came to another dead end, would this mission end the same way?

A split second later, he reached another barrier, but this time the wall was made of fresh debris. Water rivulets, some appearing barely a foot from the ceiling, ran off the broken concrete to form the puddle he was dashing through.

This was it.

He grasped a protruding pipe and pulling it, destabilized the collapsed wall. The wall of water built up behind, rushed to find a way out. Clark heard shouts of confusion and fear, but also heard the steady beat of three hearts. He was not too late. Next, he dug his hands into the twisted mix of concrete, steel and sludge that still stood between them and freedom.

Clark called to them, "I'll have you out in a moment," and yanked, clawed and heaved until more water rushed through and the opening was wide enough to allow escape. But, escape into what? The dark weaving tunnels wove for miles behind him and the men were too exhausted for the trip. Clark stepped into the space that would have become their watery crypt.

Someone weakly cried out in the dark, "It must be Superman; Superman's come to save us." A cheer went up and Clark did not bother to correct them.

"Stand back," he instructed as he crouched and then launched himself at the roof using his body as a battering ram to break past ten feet of earth and stone. He burst through to the surface and bathed in the pink hued light streaking the sky courtesy of the setting sun. The unrelenting darkness was banished; he was reborn.

Clark dropped back into the pit and twice repeated his actions until the opening was wide enough to easily bring up the workers. He returned and told the first man, "Hold on," and brought him out. He retrieved the last two, and leaping them to safety. The last two workers joined their companion who had fallen to the ground in relief. Clark looked around. They were no more than ten feet from the edge of the bay. He rushed back underground.

Superman had repaired the crack in the seawall, but not before tons of water slipped past and became trapped between the old tunnels and the seawall. This section of the old tunnel was already cracked and buckling and water streamed out of its fissures. Clark punched a hole in the wall and let a geyser erupt and shoot water down the tunnel. He had to release the pressure. Without the collapsed wall blocking in the water, it would run through the tunnels and eventually empty back into the bay. Already the violent stream lessened in intensity.

Clark returned to the surface and found the men still huddled together, trembling with cold and fatigue. In the distance, he saw red and blue lights flashing. Someone must have spotted them. "An ambulance is on the way," he reassured them and the shaky men looked at him for the first time.

Confused, one said, "You're not Superman. Who, who are you?"

Clark, with his sunglasses and hood firmly in place, smiled and replied, "Just a friend." The ambulance and squad cars were already pulling up; it was time to go. He left in a blur.

_Author's note -I could really use feedback on this chapter. I felt that the previous chapter must have been dragging (only 2 reviews), so I tried for some action, which I'm not used to doing too often. Would love to get suggestions to improve._


	9. A dream or a memory?

After he saw the ambulance reach the trembling city employees, the need to just keep going possessed him. He did not stop until he found himself by a lonely mountain lake. He jumped in with his clothes still on his back and dove to the bottom of the clear and icy waters. All his senses muffled under water and he swam the length repeatedly free from outside influences. After some time he felt a pressure in his lungs and kicked to the surface.

Twilight came while he was hiding from the rest of the world, but the shadows forming were now welcome again. The sense of euphoria he felt after finally finding those workers faded rapidly when he realized he could not share his experience with the one person he wanted to the most.

Was he seeking praise? Her approval? Or, did he just desire to bask in one of her amazing smiles? She was his biggest fan and at the same time, no one pushed him harder to do more, become more. She also did her best to keep him humble. He could practically hear her teasing comments about ripping off the Green Arrow's dubious disguise. He smiled and then sighed. He wanted to go home.

While he was treading water, he peeled of his borrowed black sweatshirt and let it drift loose in the middle of the lake. It was best not to chance returning with that in his possession. He stroked back to the edge of the hidden lake and bounded to the shore. He executed a rapid spin to wring out most of the water and then relied on his return trip to Metropolis to take care of any excess moisture. He found Lois back at the Planet and she explained why Superman had been in such a hurry to leave earlier.

Lois poured a cup of coffee before sitting down across from him at one of the tables by the vending machines. She stirred her creamer methodically and looked downcast, "There is a volcano in a little chain of islands on the pacific rim. Whole villages, really, whole islands were affected." Lois shook her head and took a sip of her coffee. "It's a tough one because before Superman ever got there, so many already died. There was no warning and the communities are so isolated." She sighed and then looked up at him. "It will help him to know how well everything turned out here." She smiled, covered his hand and gave it a little squeeze. "If you hadn't been here, hundreds more would have died waiting for him."

"I was glad to help."

Lois took another sip of her coffee and grinned at him. "You made something of a splash, too"

"I did?" Clark was surprised, after all, only three men saw him.

"A news crew just happened to be filming some background shots when you broke through the ground. It's a great shot, a silhouette against the setting sun, the whole final stage of the rescue on tape." Lois noticed Clark's growing concern. "Don't worry. Your face is completely in the shadows. Good idea with the..." Lois gestured vaguely to her eyes and head. "I was a little relieved you didn't walk in wearing the sweatshirt, though."

Clark cringed a bit and grinned. "I got rid of it. It's probably at the bottom of the lake by now."

"Oh? Not planning a repeat appearance as the Super Friend?" Lois used air quotes for the name.

"What? The who?"

Lois laughed at his horrified look, and took a moment to wipe at her eyes before filling him in. "Well, people could tell you weren't Superman and the workers were asked who saved them, one said a friend and one said not just a friend, but a super friend."

"Super Friend? Sounds pretty hokey to me."

"Sorry, it's already caught on. I even used it in my article. Still, it's way better than Ultra Women"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**Next** **Morning**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Lois opened her eyes and blinked at the ceiling while waiting for her sight to adjust to the creeping morning light. It was a decidedly odd sensation to go from deep sleep and detailed dreams to complete wakefulness with nary a yawn in between. She was still swimming with the emotions her dream triggered. Maybe, she considered, maybe she was still dreaming. Looking around her bedroom, everything seemed normal, everything where it belonged, including her husband. She turned her head and saw Clark next to her still peacefully in dreamland. All was calm and gradually she accepted her waking state.

Never before had she experienced a stranger episode of dreaming and now, even ten minutes later, every detail of it remained with her, not fading the instant her eyes finally opened as her dreams normally did. It seemed so familiar, strangely real, almost like a memory. She was in the dream observing two little girls, but she _knew_ she was one of the little girls. The other girl's name was Chloe.

They were playing together as they always played together, starting the game they made up: _When I'm Grown Up_. Lois loved to play this game. It began new every time they saw each other, which often was every day. Chloe always went first. She might say, "When I'm grown up, I'm going to be a firefighter." Then Lois would take her turn and they would spend the rest of their day pretending to be their grown up selves.

Sometimes Chloe was a firefighter, sometimes a police officer. She also liked being an astronaut, a doctor, a baker, a teacher, a pilot, even the President. But, Lois never chose anything new. She always said, "When I'm grown up, I'm going to be a reporter."

In the dream, Lois noticed at the sides of the two five year olds matching stuffed rabbits. The plush toys were identical except in color. Chloe's bunny was pink like the fluffy candy they got at the circus last week and she named it Chloe. Lois followed her example and named her soft, buttery yellow rabbit Lois.

It was time to start the game. Chloe began as always and chose to be a racecar driver this time. Then it was Lois's turn.

"When I'm grown up I'm going to be a reporter at the Daily Planet."

This was something new for Lois to say. "What's a daisy plan nut?" Chloe asked.

Lois frowned at Chloe and very carefully corrected her pronunciation. "No, you're supposed to say, the Daily Planet," Then she beamed in her excitement and shared her source. "My Great Grampa says that's where all the greatest reporters come from, so that's where I'm going to live."

Chloe accepted that. Lois's Great Grampa knew all about reporters. When he was a little boy, he met Nellie Bly. He told the best stories.

"Ok, you live at the Daily Planet and I'll live at Nasty car 'cause that's where the fastest cars go." Before they could really settle into their game, Lois's mom came and said they had to leave right away. Chloe could tell that Lois's mom was really upset; her face was all red and twisted. Lois's eyes grew big and she clutched her yellow bunny tightly. Suddenly, gaining an insight greater than her five years alive should have allowed, Chloe jumped up and threw her arms around her best friend in the whole world. She didn't want to let go, but Lois's mommy was getting even more upset, tugging at Lois's shoulder. "Goodbye Lois," she whispered while tears ran down her face. She was afraid she would never see her again.

Lois wrapped her arms around Chloe, fiercely hugging her back. Her lower lip quivered as she replied, "Goodbye Chloe." As her mother dragged her away, she kept looking back over her shoulder until the front door slammed shut behind her.

When the door closed, Lois woke up. Like a switch flipped from on to off, she was dreaming and then she was awake and wildly aware of an old, aching, empty spot. Was she remembering something from her childhood or simply making up memories to fit with what new Clark told her about a non-existent cousin? She had to get a hold of her mother and find out.

Unfortunately, that would have to wait until the afternoon. They had an appointment at Star Labs this morning. This could be the break they were waiting for. Lois had a hunch something big was going to happen and her hunches were legendary.


	10. The retrieval

_Author's note: So sorry for the delay, blame life and a wee bit of writer's block. All better now._

Chloe paused to stifle her yawn before pushing open the first set of doors leading to Milton and Victor's unauthorized lab in the sub-basement of Met U. The campus was completely dead, typical for a Sunday morning. Chloe felt another yawn coming and could not fight it back this time. Milt called just minutes ago, sounding so urgent she did not dare spend time on procuring coffee. She glanced at her watch and did a quick calculation. She left them around 4:30 am and it was now a little after 10:00 am. That meant she managed to get almost five hours of sleep in the last forty-eight hours.

Last night she returned to Victor's loft immediately following her meeting with Oliver. She had convinced Oliver to provide the alloy they needed without revealing just why they needed it. Because of potential problems, Chloe was reluctant to share the details of Clark's situation. She promised Oliver answers at the end of the week. By then, one way or another, everything would be resolved

After Chloe gave Milton and Victor the good news, she decided to stick around while they were prepping the AU-Ray for the modified conduits and conductors they would make when the alloy arrived on Sunday. She was starting to trust them, but she trusted them better on a short leash.

Shortly after midnight, a knock came at the door. Chloe set her laptop aside and cautiously checked through the peephole. She saw a proper looking, silver haired gentleman, but still verified that the safety chain was on before opening the door a few inches. "May I help you?" She asked.

"Perhaps. Are you Miss Sullivan?"

Curious who could be looking for her here, she hesitated before answering, "Yes."

"My name is Pennyworth and I have a special delivery on behalf of Oliver Queen."

Chloe rushed to close the door, throw off the chain, and allow Oliver's envoy entrance. Oliver promised delivery on Sunday, but she never hoped to have it so soon. Time was a cruel taskmaster. Chloe had learned Clark probably did _not_ have the week she was originally promised. Likely, they had no more than a few days to capture his signal before it weakened and faded away entirely. Extra time was a gift. Clark was one-step closer to being home.

Chloe blamed that sentiment and her lack of sleep for her emotional reaction when Mr. Pennyworth was making his departure.

With Vincent and Milt busy already tearing into the boxes; Chloe followed Mr. Pennyworth to the elevator. "I didn't get a chance to thank you."

Mr. Pennyworth inclined his head, accepting her words but insisted, "It was nothing Miss."

Everything from his aristocratic accent to his genteel demeanor said this man was no mere lackey. But it was the kind glint in his eyes that brought Chloe after him. Suddenly, Chloe found tears welling up; she blinked to keep them at bay. "You have no idea how important that delivery was. No idea what a difference having it right away could make. I know you must have gone out of your way, but please, please know how grateful I am."

The elevator dinged and the doors glided open. Mr. Pennyworth looked at the young woman with the trembling smile and saw her sincerity. He smiled back. "Thank you Miss. You are very welcome." He turned to go but hesitated and turned back. He pulled a cream-colored card with nothing but a phone number boldly printed on the heavy vellum out of his inside coat pocket. Earnestly, he pressed the card into her palm and said, "If you find yourself in trouble or need help of any kind my dear, please use this number."

His unexpected concern touched Chloe and brought tears back to her eyes. This time there was no preventing them from spilling down her cheeks. Impulsively, she rose to tip toes and placed a kiss on his cheek. "I'll be fine," she reassured him and waited for the elevator to take him down before wiping her eyes and returning to the apartment.

Chloe tucked card safely in her purse and offered her help to Milt & Victor. For the next four hours Chloe worked closely with them, uncrating the alloy and setting up the next stages for making the metal into proper parts. When they were down to the very technical procedures, Chloe left to catch a few winks.

Milt's call this morning came as a complete surprise. What where they doing back on campus? Chloe pushed past the last set of doors leading to their unauthorized lab. Milton was down on his hands and knees connecting the AU-Ray to numerous cables and wires while Victor was pacing back and forth mumbling calculations aloud and scratching them down at intervals. When she walked through the door, Milt scrambled to his feet and rushed over.

"Finally, you're here. Give it to me. Where is it?" He demanded, impatient as always.

"What are you talking about? What's going on? Why are you here?" Chloe looked around, confused by the evident activity. "You two are supposed to be working on strengthening the AU Ray's ability to detect Clark's signal."

"I need the core processor that you took, you know," Milton sneered, "for safe-keeping."

Chloe's spine stiffened, "_I_," she stressed, "need to know what is going on here."

"We don't have much time!"

Chloe refused to back down, "Then stop wasting it. Why do you need the processor? You said you wouldn't need it until we made a try for Clark." A hopeful notion blossomed in her mind.

"Yes and at exactly 10:38 am we are going to make an attempt."

Chloe opened her bag and retrieved the core processor, but pulled it out of reach when Milton grabbed for it. "You told me it would take you until at least Tuesday to make the necessary upgrades to get to this point. What is going on?"

Victor stopped his pacing and shouted, "Just tell her!"

Milt started talking, "The alloy, it was of a higher grade than we had before. We made changes just to the most needed points. If we hurry, we can take advantage of the solar flare interference that will happen at 10:38 today. The solar flares will act as a kind of super booster. We don't have much time to get ready, I need the processor now to install it and integrate the power channels."

Chloe handed over the part. Clark might be back in as little as twenty-five minutes. Her stomach bunched into a knot. "How can I help?"

XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Clark was amazed. He had known that Lois and Clark were pretty dynamic separately, but together they were unstoppable.

They arrived at Star Labs at 10 am sharp and spent the next twenty minutes listening to Dr. Victor Davinhoe and Dr. Milton Hamlish drone on about quantum fluctuations, oscillations, and resonance in strings. Finally, like a switch had been flicked, Lois ended the scientific gibberish and started probing their background and early experiences in the field of alternate universes. They practically admitted to hands on experience before Dr Davinhoe protested it was considered crackpot science.

Like a tag team engaged in a battle, Clark pushed up his glasses and accepted the gauntlet. He countered, "Isn't that the kind of stigma all great scientists face as they are pushing the frontiers of comprehension? Wasn't Copernicus decried as a heretic? Didn't Columbus face ridicule by those certain the world was flat? History tells us they were right. We have a very good reason to believe that you might be the next to go down in history."

Dr Davinhoe and Dr Hamlish exchanged looks and came to a decision. Hamlish nodded and Davinhoe rushed to the door and peeked out in the hallway before locking it. He then nervously wiped his hands on his white lab coat. "I am not saying I know exactly what we accomplished, but back in grad school, we spent some time experimenting with the theory. In fact, we had some positive indications that…"

Dr Hamlish interrupted on his way over to the back closet, "We had more than just a positive indication of probable success. You and I both know we figured it out and if we just could have secured funding and access to the right power source, we could have proved it." He opened the closet and starting digging past the clear plastic storage containers stacked in the front.

Dr. Davinhoe nervously cleared his throat. "We don't know for certain our theories would have worked. Anyway, we were already starting to lose scientific credibility and we had not even finished grad school. Star Labs would never have hired us if we had not focused on pure science."

Dr. Hamlish snorted, "We probably got hired by Star Labs because of our rather odd theories." He gestured to Lois and Clark standing next to the middle counter. "They are already starting with the PR." He shifted another container and then shouted, "Aha! Here it is," and brought a tissue wrapped package to the counter. "Without the necessary funds we could not create the actual full strength mechanism that would open a kind of curtain to another world, but I was able to make a prototype of the second most important piece of the puzzle."

Clark crossed the room and joined the others. "What does it do?" He asked, startling Davinhoe who had obviously forgotten anyone else was in the room.

Dr. Milton Hamlish removed the tissue paper and revealed what resembled an oversized sports watch. "What does it do?" He repeated. "It not only amplifies an individual's unique signature, it also stabilizes the vibration frequency particular to each universe. Without this devise, any travel between worlds would be very short term and retrievals, well, the energy requirements would be enormous." He shook his head. "Just not viable in the long term."

Clark picked up the device to examine it. Could this be what he needed to get home? He flipped open the monitor and triggered a quick flare of light.

Hamlish snatched it back out of his hands. "Be careful, we only have the one." He started fiddling with the buttons. "By opening this section, you activated it to make an automatic imprint of your vibration signature and the frequency that you resonate with. As you can see these numbers show..." Dr Hamlish stopped abruptly and stared at the resonator recorder. "These figures are not right. Can't be, and yet… According to this, your vibration frequency is not resonating at the same rate as the rest of the world. Nothing else is malfunctioning." The man's face lit up like he just got the Nobel Prize. His eyes were huge and his mouth hung open. "It's happened. These numbers have to be right. That must mean…you are from another world."

XXXXXXX XXXXXXX XXXXXXX XXXXXXXX XXXX XXXXXX

Chloe was calling out the frequency fluctuations to Milt and Victor, when the numbers spiked and the screen started flashing. "Guys," she called, gesturing them over, "something's happened here."

Milt pushed her out the way and let out a whoop. "We've got a signal!"

Victor raced to his side, "How is this possible? The signal is so strong. It's the right universal signature, but how?"

Chloe felt a bubble of pride expand in her chest. "Clark wouldn't have just sat still where ever he is. He must have gone looking for a tag in that universe to amplify his signal." She felt tightness in her throat and her eyes stung with hope. "Is it enough? Can we bring him home?"

Milton grinned for the first time since Chloe met him. "In two minutes, my predictions say we will feel the effects of the solar flares. As long as he has that tagging device in his possession, he's coming home."

XXXXX XXXXXX XXXXXXXX XXXXXXXX XXXXXXXX XXXXXXX

Lois shot a worried glance to her husband. Did they want to confirm that their extra Clark was not from this reality? Seeking a distraction, she plucked the resonator recorder out of Hamlish's hands. "Why would you say something like that?" She flipped opened the monitor. "Hmm, how come it didn't make that flash again? Maybe it _is_ broken."

Dr Hamlish frowned and snatched it back. "It is not broken. I just set it to automatically record the resonating frequency of the first user, just a safety precaution. Without that information the resonator wouldn't know to which universe to send its beacon. The wearer would be lost." He switched his attention back to Clark. "But you must already know that, or you would not be here."

Clark nervously cocked his head and truthfully answered, "I've never seen anything like your resonator recorder before."

Hamlish shook his head. "No one would be fool enough to take the trip without some kind of tagging device. What are you doing here? Why are you here? Just who are you anyway?"

Clark saw the look in his alternate's eyes, like a deer caught in the headlights. He pulled the resonator recorded out of Milton's grasp. Immediately, Milton whipped back around to face the reporter. Clark scrutinized the device, gestured toward his younger version and said, "He's kind of a relative of mine who has been helping with research for this story." Lois, who hadn't gotten a good enough look earlier, leaned over her husband's arm to tinker with the watch-like gadget.

Clark continued speaking, "About this device, you said that it is the second most important part of your research. What was the other component? What would the other mechanism do?"

Refusing to answer his question, Dr Milton Hamlish stared at the resonator recorder now being held and examined by both reporters and just scowled over the theft.

Victor supplied the answer. "In the simplest terms, we would have constructed a beam, a ray if you will, that would retune a curtain of space around an item or individual and shift them to that alternate universe. The AU-Ray would also retrieve said item or individual, as long as they were wearing the tagging device."

"So," Clark said coming from the other side of the counter to join the two reporters, "you're saying if someone was from a parallel world, they could use that device to send a signal back home."

"As long as someone is operating the AU-Ray, yes."

XXXX XXXXX XXXXXX XXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXX XXXXXX

"The AU-Ray had reached maximum power," Milton instructed Victor," commence count down. Activate in ten, nine, eight…"

XXXXXX XXXX XXXXXXXX XXXXXXX XXXXXXXX XXXXXXX

Clark smiled. Chloe would never stop trying, never give up. Once the resonator recorder was in his possession, he would be as good as home. "Maybe I should hold on to the device," he suggested to Lois and Clark who both still were holding it. As the one closest to him took custody from the other and stretched to meet his hand, the lights began to flicker.

XXXXXX XXXXX XXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXX

The AU-Ray showered the room with sparks, Chloe flinched and took another step back as crackling and fractured popping sounds started. She was terrified the ray would burn up before they had Clark back. Already, an acrid burning smell hung in the lab. The lights flickered as the enormous power requirement sapped all nearby sources.

"It's working," cried Victor. "The curtain is forming."

Chloe saw a shimmery, gold haze materialize at the end of the energy stream and through it; she could see a more solid object coalescing. "Oh my God, it's working!"

"Stabilize the power," ordered Milton. "Focus the stream!"

"It's working! I can see something!"

The golden haze rushed inward, like a stream of water cascading over a waterfall, swirling exponentially faster at the center. Blinding light flared and a figure staggered forward. Heavy smoke from the AU-Ray stung their eyes and fogged their vision.

"Clark!" Chloe called before choking on a fit of coughing. Victor used the fire extinguisher to smother the still flaming contraption with foam while Milton activated the lab's advanced air circulation system. Chloe rushed forward, only to halt abruptly as the smoke shifted. "No," she called out like a soft lament. "Oh my God, what have we done?"

Victor blinked and put down the fire extinguisher. "You're not Clark."

Milton asked bluntly, "Who the hell are you?"

"Me?" The unexpected arrival looked around. "I'm Lois Lane."


	11. Square One Revisited

_Author's Note: Sorry for being so long. Back when I had the case of writers block on this story, I started another one altogether (Stargate) Got that all done and I promise to be devoted again. _

"Who the hell are you?"

"Me?" The unexpected arrival looked around. "I'm Lois Lane." She noticed Victor standing closest to her. "I'm not at Star Labs anymore, am I?" She asked. He shook his head. "No, of course not, that would be too normal an expectation. You know, to still be at the same place where you were two seconds ago. It's happened again. Hasn't it. There must be something wrong with me." She threw her hands up in the air and added pacing to her babbling.

"Why wouldn't it happen again?" Lois questioned semi-hysterical and then tried to calm down. "Could be worse, could have been kidnapped, or lost my memory." She whirled about, gesturing wildly and still maintaining the conversation by herself. "It has been worse. I've been kidnapped while I lost my memory." She stopped for a moment to consider her comment. "Or is that really worse? Because I don't I remember to much about that."

Victor slowly backed away from the mad woman and went to examine the smoldering ray.

Lois's sweeping motions drew Milton's attention to the dark object in her hand. He crossed the room and caught her fist on its downward arc. He pried her fingers open and scuttled back to the counter where the lights were still operating. Lois cried out, "Hey! I think I'm going to need that."

Chloe watched them with her mouth agape, immobilized by the sheer magnitude of this disaster. Clark was still lost, the AU-Ray looked decimated, the lab was in shambles, they had wrenched another victim into this mess, and the odds of her name being just a coincidence were decidedly low.

Chloe knew she was going to have to deal with Lois and whoever she was soon. She knew the AU-Ray had to be rebuilt fast; Clark didn't have much time left, but she remained motionless, unable to act. Wave after wave of disappointment and weariness washed over her rendering her unsteady and bogged down with helpless rage. They had been so close to bringing Clark home and now they were back to square one; worse than at square one with less time, two people to switch, and completely without funds.

Dimly, she was aware of Milton and Lois bickering like petty school children, something about H G Wells and resonance. Milton was getting out of control again.

Still frozen, Chloe was also vaguely aware of Victor going through his own meltdown. He was examining the ray and muttering, "Ruined, ruined. We will never make it." He picked through the ruble. "Destroyed, it's ruined, my life ruined, I'm ruined." He checked the internal components. "Core processor singed, secondary systems fried, base feedback charred, external plating, oww! Still retaining heat. Impossible, can't do it."

The increasing tumult between Milton and Lois penetrated the fog of pessimism, kicked up her temper set her in motion. In four strides Chloe stood in front of Milton who hunched over the counter examining his treasure. Lois was fruitlessly trying to tell him something about the devise and he was paying no heed. Chloe's last bit of control snapped. Calling up the tougher persona she used to control Milton was no difficulty this time. Apparently her helpless rage would find an outlet.

"Milton," she got no response. "Milton!" She demanded his attention a second time. When she didn't get even a bat of an eyelid, Chloe snatched the empty fire extinguisher lying on the ground, lifted it up over her head and hurled it at the glass beakers stacked behind him. Glass shattered and crashed satisfyingly. Milton ducked and protectively covered his head.

When he straightened, Chloe grabbed the front of his shirt, made a fist, and twisted it to bring Milt close. His scowl dropped and his eyes got wide. "Are we going to go through this again?" She asked too sweetly, hoping he would give her a reason to pull out the taser. Milt shook his head and gave Chloe his attention. "Good." She released him and turned to Lois who had fallen silent at this sudden display.

Chloe took a steadying breath and exhaled, trying to release any lingering violent urges. "I know you are confused and probably have a million questions, but please if we are to have any hope of getting you home, I need to figure out how you got here in the first place." She held up a finger, indicating Lois should wait and turned to Milton. "Give me that, that…"

"Resonator recorder," supplied Lois.

Chloe thanked her. "Give me that resonator recorder and get over to the AU Ray with Victor and give me an assessment."

Milton sullenly handed it over, "Don't touch the settings."

"Fine, now get me a timeline. I need to know how soon the ray will be working again." Milton walked over to Victor and pushed him out of the way so he could get a closer look at the damage. Chloe turned her attention to the Lois Lane watching her with a mixture of wariness and respect. A Lois Lane who looked nothing like the cousin Chloe knew, but could still very well be the same intended representation.

The past few days forcibly enrolled Chloe in the ultimate crash course on string theory, multiple dimensions, and parallel universes. She read scientific journals, articles and blogs written by everyone from Stephen Hawking to SG1Fanboy12. Hey, a concept of a parallel universe where everyone looked different but still had the same names wasn't much harder to wrap her mind around than an evil, super-computer professor or a miserly, earth burrowing, homicidal maniac of a farmer. She'd figure out just who Lois was supposed to be later, first Chloe needed to know if this Lois knew anything.

Chloe opened her mouth to begin her interrogation and then stopped and looked around. Her ebbed temper made way for weariness. "I need caffeine." She glanced at Victor and Milton who were finally working together disassembling the ray for salvageable pieces. "They're not going anywhere for a while. Is there anything you're going to tell me that can't wait until I have a double espresso in my hands?"

Lois shook her head. "That's the first thing anyone here has said that makes sense."

They remained silent until after they placing their orders at a coffee spot just off campus. Chloe led Lois to a table in the back corner of the shop. The coffee house wasn't crowded so Chloe felt it safe to talk. She took a sip of her coffee and with her eyes closed waited just a moment before she felt the effects singing through her veins. "I almost feel human again," she sighed with pleasure, but encountered more than a twinge of guilt when she noticed Lois forlornly stirring her latte.

Lois glanced up to see Chloe watching her and addressed the elephant in the room. "That machine that brought me here, it looked bad, real bad. What's the chance that I'm going to make it home? Just tell it to me straight."

Chloe furrowed her brow in concern and shook her head. "I don't know yet, but I promise you, we are not giving up. Yeah, the AU Ray looked pretty bad, but these are the guys who built it and so if they have to start from scratch we will."

Lois took comfort in her fierce avowal. She offered a small smile and held out her hand. "We haven't been officially introduced. You must be the Chloe that Clark keeps talking about."

Chloe took her hand and shook it perfunctorily before she understood the significance of what Lois revealed. "You saw Clark? My Clark?" Her eyes welled and she looked up grinning and dashing away fat tears of relief. "You spoke to him? Is he alright? Of course he is alright." Chloe half sobbed, half laughed in joy.

If Lois had any doubts about Chloe's feelings for Clark, the girl's face just told the whole tale. Chloe was a cute girl with a commanding presence and a streak of inner elegance, but at the mention of Clark, her smile lit up her whole face and transformed her into a beauty. "He was fine when I unexpectedly departed." Lois shook her head, "Ten more seconds, even five and he would have been the one sitting sipping coffee with you." Lois's words stole away Chloe's smile.

"What happened?"

Lois quickly filled her in on the events that took place at Star Lab's and the importance of the resonator recorder device, "Which," Lois concluded, "is what I was trying to explain to Dr Hamlish."

"_Dr_ Hamlish? You mean Milton?"

"Yes, in my world he and Dr Davinhoe had worked heavily on alternate reality theory during grad school, but didn't have the funds to develop the actual working model. Once we found Clark, we were trying to gather as much information as possible and they seemed a good source to turn to."

"How did you find Clark in the first place?" Chloe broke of a piece of her blueberry muffin and took a bite.

"We first heard about him after he came to the Daily Planet looking for you and then we got word from Clark's parents about a strange young man looking for his mother, Senator Martha Kent--you have to explain that one--and also ranting about a Chloe Sullivan." Lois took a sip of her coffee. "When I ran across him the next day I convinced my husband we should help. Well, once I convinced him who your Clark really was, of course he was going to help."

Chloe cocked her head. "Wait, I'm confused. Why were you at the Planet? Where was I, err, your Chloe?"

"There is no Chloe Sullivan at the Planet. I don't even have a cousin named Chloe Sullivan, although I had this dream…," Lois trailed off and shook her head. "Never mind that, but as to why I was at the Planet, Clark and I were just putting to bed a hot scoop. We had just sent it off to the presses when Clark got the call from his parents."

Chloe choked on her muffin. "You and Clark, and a hot scoop? You work at the Daily Planet? You, Lois Lane, are working for the Metropolis Daily Planet? As a reporter?"

Lois paused in her effort to open a package of sweetener, feeling she should be somewhat offended by Chloe's great surprise. "I'll have you know I've worked for the Daily Planet since I first got hired as an intern back in college."

"Wow, that's great." Chloe blinked rapidly trying to adjust to this new idea. "It's just not something I'd expect from my Lois; Clark, I always knew he had it in him, but Lois?" Chloe lifted her eyebrows and shrugged her shoulders, "Sorry, it's just that the Lois I know is so happy at the Inquisitor that…"

Lois's jaw dropped. "The Inquisitor! That lying scandal rag!" She jumped to her feet in agitation. All heads in the coffee house turned at her shouting. Lois nervously tittered and sat down slowly, trying to calm down. "No, no, it's the alt reality thing," she tried telling herself, "in your world The Inquisitor is a respected newspaper." Lois clutched Chloe's hand desperately, "Right?"

Chloe shook her head laughing. "I'm sorry, but just last week they did an expose on Elvis sightings in squash fields."

Lois put her head down on the table. "Ugh, I am so humiliated."

Still laughing, Chloe patted her on the shoulder, "Cheer up, you are two completely different individuals making your own choices. I've done a lot of reading on alternate realities. When there are so many differences between worlds, there are no rules that say you have to follow the same destinies. What Lois does with her life doesn't have to be any kind of reflection on you. Hey, at least you have a counterpart here; I don't exist in your world." She tilted her head contemplatively. "I wonder why that is?"


	12. A Way Home?

Milt and Victor in a tag team presentation were laying technical mumbo jumbo down in heaps and flourishes. Chloe was fairly certain Victor in his enthusiasm wasn't conscious of his audience's glazed look of incomprehension; she was equally certain that Milton chose the most obscure way of telling her the AU-Ray would take at least a week to repair. That was at least four days longer that they had to rescue Clark. In four days, Clark's unique signature vibrating in tune to this universe will have begun realigning to the universe in which he was trapped.

They would no longer have a viable way of detecting him for retrieval. His signature vibration would have degraded too much. Chloe recognized what had not been spelled out. By the time the AU-Ray was working, Lois's signature too will have degraded. Well, she could fix that at least. Chloe fished the chunky black sports watch-like resonator recorder out of her bag and placed it next to the disassembled ray.

Victor looked at it curiously, too absorbed in the ray to have noticed it earlier. "What is that thing?"

"This is how we pulled Lois back instead of Clark. His resonance signature was imprinted, but Lois was in possession of the device."

Victor reverently picked up the device and studied it for few minutes. "This is amazing. Our tags will stabilize and boost an individual's signature, but to record it and let it be applied for either retrieval or conveyance, amazing. Add allowing a completely separate person to utilize it, astounding."

"Can you duplicate it?" Chloe asked, clinging to hope.

Victor hesitated and looked down. "Technically, yes."

Before Chloe could enjoy any relief, Milton jumped in. "What he isn't saying is by the time we could recreate it, say a month to a year from now, it will be too late." He waved in Lois's general direction. "Hell, it is too late now." Milton kicked a burnt out tile across the floor. Chloe's throat tightened and a lump too big too swallow rose up. She was expecting the worst, but still found herself unprepared.

Lois looked at the two would be scientists, one morosely defiant and one just morose, and then took in the stricken face of Chloe. "What does he mean? Chloe, what aren't you telling me?" Chloe covered her face and rubbed her eyes, trying to work past the lump in her throat. Victor answered for her.

"By the time the AU-Ray is rebuilt, we no longer will be able to pick up Clark's signal. The same goes for you." A chill ran down Lois's spine. Victor continued apologetically. "We do not have a way of saving your data. Right now, if the ray was working, we could pick up a reading and from that vibration signature open a curtain to your universe. But it's not and your vibrations will fade too much before we have the ray rebuilt."

Unwilling to give up, Lois asked, "What about those tagging devices? You said they stabilize and boost signatures." Chloe looked up hopefully.

Milton slashed his hand through the air. "The tags work strictly for retrieval, not conveyance." Lois felt as if a huge weight landed on chest. She found it hard to breathe and her knees threatened to give out.

"Then that's it?" She said clutching the edge of the counter to keep from falling. "I'm stuck here?" Her voice wavered and tears swam in her eyes. "I'm not going home? Oh, God, I'll never see Cl…" Chloe interrupted.

"You're going home." She insisted, but with an unsteady voice of her own.

"But how?"

Milton folded his arms and scowled. "Yes, how?"

Chloe picked up the resonance recorder and handed it to Milton. "You will erase," her voice broke, she cleared her throat and continued. "You will erase Clark's vibration and record Lois's now while they are strong."

Victor was aghast. "If we erase it, then even if we somehow open the curtain to Lois's world, he still won't be able to come back. This is the only record of his vibrations. We send her back and Clark will still be trapped. We should wait for awhile, see what happens. Her signal will probably be good for awhile."

Milton shook his head, more subdued than usual. "No, Chloe is right. We do it now. We can preserve her signal and send her back when the AU-Ray is functioning. We wait and it might be too degraded. Either way, we're not bringing back Clark."

Chloe pressed her lips together to stop their trembling and in just above a hoarse whisper said, "I had hoped we would be able to send Lois back sooner. Then she could have returned the resonator to Clark with his information still on it and we would bring him home. But this way, at least we will still get you home." She attempted to clear her throat again. "Clark wouldn't have let you throw away your chance to go home on an improbable gamble for his return." She shook her head. "No, he would have wanted it this way." Chloe shook her head again and her self-control vanished. As her face crumpled, she turned and fled the lab.

When the double doors to the lab finally closed behind Cloe, Lois looked at Milton. "Can you reprogram it?"

Milton nodded still starring at the doors. Chloe's break in composure upset him. They were failing her. They were the reason Clark had been sent to another world and they were failing to bring him home. Suddenly, that mattered to him.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Clark hung his head, waiting while Lois's husband paced and spoke on his cell phone. "No Ma, Dr Davinhoe and Hamlish aren't making promises, but they are trying to get another device working. From what they and Clark say, she would have been unharmed by the retrieval. I don't know Dad, but Clark has people working on his end too. No, you don't have to come to Metropolis; I'm not going to be home much anyway. Ok, talk to you soon." He disconnected the call and slipped his phone back in his coat pocket.

"I'm so sorry," Clark apologized for the umpteenth time since Lois vanished, "I never thought that…"

Clark interrupted him, "I know. It was just one of those things." He pushed up his glasses and then raked his fingers through his hair in frustration. When Lois had disappeared from in front of them at Star Labs he came close to losing control. His first thought was to blame Clark from another world, but he was just as dumbstruck by her departure. Dr Hamlish and Davinhoe were astounded as well as wildly exited. Finally, they had proof of the theories that brought them such mockery in grad school.

Victor Davinhoe quickly sobered as he explained the time constraints and challenges to bringing her back. Without the resonator recorder to preserve the "address" of Clark's world, they would run out of time before they could build the beam that opened the curtain between worlds. They were in their lab now trying to come up with a makeshift device to hold Clark's pattern. Neither seemed too hopeful.

"Lois will come home. Chloe will make it their priority, I'm sure of it."

Clark saw the earnestness on his alternative's face. "You have a lot of faith in this Chloe Sullivan."

"There is no one I trust more. She'll find a way, she won't give up. You can count on that."

Clark sighed, "I am."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Chloe blindly stumbled down the hallway, talking the turn to go deeper into the sub-basement of Met University. She couldn't think clearly; her mind was a mish-mash of loss and regret, guilt and jealously, anger and despair. She went around a dark corner to find that the lights weren't even on in this section of the building. She stopped and leaned her face against the cool wall before sliding down to the floor and letting the emotional storm overtake her.

Could this really be it? Was she giving up? Hopelessness battled her normally optimistic nature. She closed her eyes, leaned her head back against the wall, and wrapped her arms around her shoulders. Oh, she wished that Clark was here. He was the only one she wanted to turn to when her world fell apart. His were the arms that gave shelter during the worst of times.

She recalled last year when she found out her father had left and she turned into an emotional basket case for the evening. Clark had been the one to hold her and comfort her. He had been the one to stay with her for the night, never leaving her side. During her darkest nights since, she sometimes imagined the feel of his arms around her, keeping the world at bay.

To think that just twenty minutes ago, she was wasting time being upset because Lois was married to Clark in an alternate universe. Chloe dashed the tears from her eyes and laughed unhappily. It seemed so petty now. To be honest, she knew she was being irrational back at the coffee house, especially after her pep talk to Lois about separate universes having no meaningful bearing on each other. Chloe still felt foolish though, not catching Lois's earlier references to a husband.

Sure, she had seen Lois's sparkling diamond engagement and wedding band set, but in her mind, Chloe thought Clark was who Lois worked with and the husband was some separate creature. Even now she cringed slightly at the memory of her promise to Lois.

She and Lois had been comparing their experiences at the Planet, recalling their first front page stories, the indignity of pet obits, the inexplicable swill that they tried to provide on Saturdays, and their profound love of the sights, sounds and smells that meant the Daily Planet newsroom. Lois started fighting back tears, worried about Clark worrying about her. Chloe had reached out and covered Lois's hand, vowing, "We will get you back to your Daily Planet, Clark, _and_ your husband."

Chloe shook her head, remembering Lois's blank stare as she blundered on. "It sounds like Clark and your husband must be close." Another confused look came her way. "You know, because you said your husband agreed to help my Clark the instant he realized who he was?"

Lois's tears dried up and she laughed. "Clark _is _my husband. We celebrated our first year anniversary just a while ago." Klutz mode immediately kicked in and Chloe had knocked the remnants of her espresso over before compounding the issue by taking out Lois's latte in her floundering attempts to mop up the first spill. Once the mess was dealt with, Chloe whisked them back to the lab without another reference to her error. Before she could get past her unsettling emotions on the topic of any Clark in any marriage, Milt and Victor presented the timeline for the AU-Ray.

Never to see Clark again, how could she cope with that? Personal feelings aside, Chloe felt that her world needed Clark more than either of them could really know now. She felt in her gut that Clark's destiny lay in greatness. She couldn't give up all hope. Not now, not when Clark was depending on her.

Chloe got up off the floor and placed one hand on the wall to steady herself as she regained her equilibrium. She was on her way back to the lab when Lois found her.

"Oh, there you are." Lois smiled and grabbed her hand. "You need to come back to the lab. Dr. Davinhoe and Dr. Hamlish, I mean Victor and Milton say they figured a way to bring Clark back."

Chloe came to an abrupt halt and pressed for answers, "How? What did they say?"

Lois shrugged her shoulders and rolled her eyes. "They said an awful lot and almost none of it made any sense except that they needed you in order to do it."

Chloe rushed past Lois to get back to the lab, almost running as she burst through the double doors. Immediately she demanded, "How are we going to get Clark back? What do you need me to do?"

Milton rubbed his hands together in excitement, "It's simple really. You are going to go and get him."

_Author's note: If your wondering, the reference to Chloe's father leaving is taken from my other Smallville story set last season (5) called "Bad Day". Thank you PotterPhan21 and asolyom for reviewing chapter 11, means heaps to me. _


	13. Loans and Jimmys and Lanas, Oh My!

Milton rubbed his hands together in excitement, "It's simple really. You are going to go and get him."

Chloe was stunned. "Me? How?"

Victor looked sheepish. "Once you showed me the resonator record, I don't know why I didn't think of it right away. The moment she," he said pointing to Lois, "came through the curtain we had the address to the universe that Clark was sent."

Milton reached into his pocket. "As you know, we've been sending and retrieving objects for weeks prior to your friend's unintended excursion. As long as the sent object has this tagging device," he said holding a semi-flat grey disc, "then we can pick up the signal and bring it back." He handed the disc to Chloe. "Using the universal vibrations we preserved from Lois on the resonator recorder, we can form a curtain for that Lois and you to go through. You will wear the tag for your retrieval and once on the other side, you will retune the resonator recorder to your universal vibration, give it to Clark and we will be able to pull you both back."

Victor beamed and boasted, "It's so superbly simple."

Milton looked pleased with himself also. "Now all you have to do is come up with twenty thousand dollars."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Periodically tugging up her neckline, Lois sat behind Chloe's desk in the basement of the Daily Planet. Which universe she was in didn't seem to matter, the Planet simply had something special about it and she felt more relaxed and sure of herself now than any time in the previous twenty-four hours. The Planet was a part of her, they had history together.

Today some of that history was coming in handy. Her own previous experience as a Daily Planet basement dwelling reporter allowed Lois to free Chloe up from her regular duties to make scores of calls to financial institutions all over Metropolis. Having established how to return everyone to where they belonged, now the biggest obstacle remained money or rather, the exceedingly lack there of.

Unfortunately, they couldn't turn to the all American solution of just buying on credit because Milt and Victor had made such a habit of begging and barrowing from their suppliers that none would consider doing any kind of business with them without cash up front. Last time they needed money, Chloe cashed in her college expense fund and virtually emptied her bank accounts, but Lois doubted the gold card she brought with from her world would get them very far.

Therefore, Lois took over answering the tip line and proofing several of Chloe's pending "about town" pieces while Chloe tried to convince the banks to part with their cash reserve. Thus far they had been less than enthusiastic and not at all sympathetic to the notion of Chloe needing the loan immediately, with no collateral, and double what they deemed an appropriate amount for tuition.

"I'd like to speak to an available loan officer." Chloe sat at a neighboring desk to Lois simultaneously calling on the phone and researching on line prospects. "Yes, I did email my particulars. The name is Chloe Sullivan. Yes, I'll hold." She was getting tired of this conversation. Next, she'd get transferred to the loan officer and if she was really lucky they would pick up instead of sending her right to voicemail _before_ they put her back on hold, made her wait ten minutes and _then_ told her that they were sorry but she was not a good candidate for a loan. Chloe opened another new web page promising big loans for low rates but the small print told another tale. She glanced over when the tip line rang. Lois cleared her throat before answering and concentrated on sounding young and blond.

"Daily Planet tip line, Chloe Sullivan speaking, how may I help you? You have an original Thigh Master still in the box? No, I'm not sure if that qualifies as an antique. I'll transfer you to the classified department, I'm sure they will know." Lois rolled her eyes and hung up.

"It's a tip line. A number they're supposed to call with breaking news, a juicy scandal, or at the very least to rat out their neighbor for not recycling. Why are there no tips? Metropolis is a big city, even when it is in Kansa. Lots of news must be going on. So why are there no calls to the tip line?" Lois asked, getting impassioned. "It's because the real tipsters that must be trying to call in are blocked; blocked by those who won't take the time to dial the right department or take the Thigh Master out of the box. I mean, obviously they got the number out of the paper. They took the time to open the paper, search out the internal directory and yet they can't look one line lower to find the direct number to the department they really want? They just dial the first number they see and the hell with the purpose."

"Easy Lois, at least no one has called yet looking for an effective way to get grass stains out of pee-wee football uniforms." Chloe laughed. "On the weekends, the tip line is always getting mixed up with the helpful hint hotline. Two weeks ago I was walking an octogenarian through the basic steps to microwave a potato. In the end he called back and yelled at me for ten minutes because I forgot to mention poking holes in the potato." She heard a voice on her line. "Yes, I'm still holding."

Lois went back to scanning the articles and tugging at the neckline of the suit she borrowed from Chloe. Being only an inch taller and of similar builds, Lois was pleased to find she and Chloe wore the same size. She was even more pleased that Chloe's wardrobe was more sophisticated than the average twenty-year old and not limited to jeans, sweats, and minis.

On Sunday night after concluding plans with Victor and Milton, she and Chloe went shopping for a few items of intimate apparel. At first Lois objected to spending money when they were so desperately looking for it, but Chloe insisted, "Until Victoria's Secret starts to make vector processing chips, my charge card isn't going to help us and only in a true emergency will I consider sharing my underwear, a mere case of universal displacement does not meet the criteria."

Lois liked the scarlet suit she chose from Chloe's closet. The skirt hit her calves at a very flattering length and the black pumps she had on when she arrived always helped to make her legs look longer. The top also fit well, not bagging in around the waist like some suits had the tendency to do. The only problem was with the neckline.

Either the new lingerie she purchased was living up to its miracle promises in unexpected ways or Chloe's work suites showed off a more dramatic display of cleavage than Lois was used to. She tugged at the décolletage once more before chastising herself. According to the mirror, nothing was wrong with how she was dressed. According to the whistles directed at them from a nearby construction site, nothing was wrong with how either of them dressed. When Chloe got ready for the Planet, she left behind the average college student and transformed into an elegant professional, mature beyond her years.

Chloe hung up the phone and scratched another institution off her list.

"What's that, the tenth bank that turned you down?"

"Sixteenth, if you include the ones on line."

Lois twisted the cap on her pen and frowned. "It's not looking good."

"No." Chloe stared off into space, running through a list of options. If Oliver Queen weren't out of the country she would risk bringing him in on the secret and ask for funds, but his office said he was unavailable, out for the rest of the week. Chloe's mind was still firmly resolved against seeking help from Lex, Lionel, or Lana and Martha was still away. Not that the Kent's were ever just sitting on cash. The farm kept them in a living, but not much more. Going to Martha would have been too much like extortion anyway: give us twenty thousand dollars or I won't bring your son back.

No, Chloe thought, they needed a different kind of contact, someone who might look at this as an investment. That's the offer she would have proposed to Oliver, frontline access to an emerging technology. Who else would have an interest in what they were doing, be trustworthy, and also have the kind of liquidity of assets to deliver cash right away. An image of the silver haired gentleman who delivered the alloy flashed through Chloe's mind.

She grabbed her bag and dug around for her wallet. She slipped out the cream colored card Mr. Pennyworth had pressed into her hand, entreating her to call if she needed help. Well, she needed help.

Chloe scrutinized the area code and telephone exchange of the emblazoned phone number; it wasn't local. A quick search on the computer indicated that the number was, naturally, unpublished. In the normal course of things, unless it belonged to a disposable cell phone, rarely were numbers truly unlisted; but, all Chloe could discern about the digits were that they belonged to a landline originating in Gotham. She tapped the corner of the study card against the desktop. Could she take that leap of faith and trust a virtual stranger? Given their financial pickle, did she dare not?

They needed the kind of contacts a gentleman like Pennyworth surely had. Then again, maybe she was romanticizing her encounter. He might just be a high end delivery boy handing out his business card. Chloe shook her head. Her instincts said his offer of help was genuine. Time to trust her gut again.

She was punching in the number when Lois cleared her throat pointedly and jerked her head a couple times at something coming up behind. Chloe put the phone down and swiveled her chair to face the visitor.

"Jimmy!"

Lois cocked her head and studied him, "Jimmy? As in, Jimmy Olson?"

Jimmy grinned and looked pleased, "Chloe's mentioned me."

Lois smiled back and said, "No, just a lucky guess." Jimmy scrunched his forehead up in confusion. Chloe pushed back a healthy does of curiosity (what did Lois know about Jimmy?) and firmly plastered a polite, yet friendly smile on her face. Since they stopped going out, their relationship had been a trifle strained.

"Can I help you?" She asked steering his attention away from Lois. Being down in the basement had the advantage of a great deal of freedom and not a lot of supervision, but Chloe didn't really want to explain who or why Lois was answering the tip line or proofing her piece on city dwelling falcons.

He shrugged and smiled. "Just wanted to see if you wanted to go to lunch."

"Sorry, but I'm just too busy today." Chloe said gently. Jimmy took a step closer and leaned on the desk.

"You're always busy."

Chloe sighed, "You know how it is. Turning in the assignment pieces while still trying to dig up your own stories."

He half sat on the desk with his back to Lois. "Yeah, I know, but you didn't answer my texts or return any of my calls this weekend. You've barely spent any time at the Planet lately. Admit it, you're avoiding me." He studied the pencil he was playing with. "I miss you bright eyes."

Chloe sighed and looked away. "Oh, Jimmy."

"It's true. I miss you. I thought that maybe we could try again."

Chloe closed her eyes and shook her head. "We can't." She opened her eyes and looked into his. "Jimmy, I value you as one of my friends, but that is all we can be."

Jimmy cringed and straightened up away from the desk, before sitting back down again and nervously tapping his fingers. He grimaced, "Value just as a friend, huh."

Chloe reached out and covered his hand, stilling the nervous tapping. "I value you as a friend _and_ as one of _the_ up and coming photographers at the Daily Planet."

Jimmy grinned and stood up. "That'll work for now." He headed toward the exit, but paused and called over his shoulder, "But stop avoiding me, ok?"

"Ok." Chloe agreed even though Clark was the real reason she'd been busy.

When Jimmy left, Lois was ready to pounce. "You dated Jimmy Olson!"

Chloe nodded and asked. "Just how did you guess he was Jimmy Olson? What did Clark tell you?"

Lois leaned back. "Nothing, it's just he seemed so Jimmy Olson…ish." Chloe laughed and shook her head.

"What does that mean?"

Lois shrugged and lifted her hands helplessly. "Oh, I don't know, but with the camera slung around his neck, the freckles, and the cheesy grin." Lois sat forward. "The Jimmy Olson I know may not look like him, but believe me, there's a vibe." She reached for her coffee mug with Go Crows in bold red letters, found it empty, and made a face. She put the cup back down, said thoughtfully, "Funny," and motioned her hand vaguely, "with the age difference."

Chloe stood, walked a few steps, and grabbed the fresh pot of coffee off of the burner. "What do you mean?" She refilled both her and Lois's cup.

Lois wrapped her hands around the mug and took a sip. "Thank you," she said and waited for Chloe to cross back from returning the carafe before answering. "I just find it odd, his age. Where I'm from, Jimmy is at least ten years younger, just a puppy really. Here, he's got to be around the same age as you and Clark." Lois blushed and laughed. "That was a weird thought."

Chloe was chuckling along with Lois, but wasn't sure why. "What?"

Lois ducked her head and tried to contain her grin. "Oh, it's just that knowing Jimmy, it's a given that he would have asked me out. He's cute and sweet and knowing who I was when I was your age, I probably would have said yes. The concept just messes with my mind. The whole idea is kind of embarrassing to contemplate. I usually think of Jimmy as the kid brother I never had."

Chloe gave her an understanding smile. "I can relate; I'm a bit bewildered by it all too, but your right, Jimmy is sweet and cute." She paused and drank from her red and gold Smallville High number eight mug. She sighed. "He made me laugh and we had fun together. Before I knew it, we were going out regularly, but…" Chloe put her coffee down, leaned her elbows on the desk and rested her chin on her folded hands. "But he wasn't the one. Was never going to be the one." She shrugged. "I think I figured that out a long time ago. I like him though, so it was easy to pretend that maybe something would change." Chloe glanced up to see Lois watching her closely. She smiled self-deprecatingly. "That notion was put to rest before too long."

"So after you and Jimmy broke up, you and Clark started dating."

Chloe blinked in confusion for a moment before she found her voice. "Clark? No." Then like a child repeating something memorized by rote she said, "Clark and I are just friends."

Lois guffawed in disbelief. "Just friends? Yeah right, that's why he raced all over Metropolis desperately searching for you. That's why Clark started moping at the mere idea of no version of Chloe Sullivan existing in my universe. That's why he kept questioning and pushing me on the subject until, now, I've been wondering _what_ I really _do_ remember."

Lois's words sent a burst of warmth and pleasure up her spine, but she wouldn't read anything into Clark's actions. "Well, he is my best friend. Also," Chloe forced a kind of half laugh, half scoffing sound, "Clark kind of relies on my contacts and researching abilities."

Lois tilted her head in surprise. "Really? He had no problem navigating through the archived papers or in compiling data, theories and concepts about alt realities from the internet. If you ask me, he certainly didn't seem incapable of doing his own research."

Chloe straightened in her chair. "Of course he's capable," she defended him with a slightly acerbic tone. "Clark, I think, could do just about anything it he wanted too. I wasn't saying that he couldn't do the research for himself, just that he usually comes to me for those kinds of answers."

Lois fought against letting her grin becoming too smug. "So what you are saying is that Clark just comes up with excuses to come see you on a regular basis?"

Chloe felt heat rise to her cheeks and scowled at her reaction. She would be foolish to buy into such a tale. "If suddenly we are more than just fiends, its news to me," she replied defensively. "It's been less than a year since Clark broke up with Lana and a lot less than that since he truly got over her." Chloe unconsciously traced the red eight on her Crow's coffee mug. When she spoke again, she was calmer, quieter. "Besides, our friendship is in a good place. I don't know if I want to risk what we have now on something unknown. I don't know how I'd handle it if I lost Clark."

Lois sighed and nodded. "Ok, I understand that." Chloe skeptically raised her eyebrows. Lois tilted her head and promised her, "Really, I do. Before Clark, I never had anyone in my life that I could call a best friend. When I first found myself thinking about him as more than just a friend, I was scared; afraid I'd mess up the most steadily important relationship I had in my life." Lois twisted her wedding ring mindlessly. "But if I had let my fears control me, I'd have missed out on so much and now that's the thought that scares me."

Chloe chewed on her bottom lip and wrinkled her forehead, steeped in doubt. "I don't know. Even if I was brave enough to take another chance, I'm not sure if Clark would even be interested or at least interested enough."

Chloe covered her eyes with her hand for a moment and then rubbed the side of her jaw. She leaned forward on her elbow and griped her chin, half covering her mouth like she could hold back the doubt by blocking the words. "I don't want to be just someone he settles for because he couldn't have the one he really wants. Maybe it's selfish, but as his friend I know that he values me. If I turned girlfriend, would I just be a replacement, second best?"

Chloe dropped her whole head in her hands looking even more confused. "Clark decided that he couldn't tell Lana the truth, that it would be too dangerous. But I can't help think that maybe if he had told her, then he'd have the girl of his dreams. I can't help wondering how his life would turn out if had done that."

Lois hesitated, not certain if she should meddle, but she had seen Clark's eyes take on a special glow when he mentioned his Chloe. She had seen how intensely Chloe mattered to him and she had no doubts how deeply Chloe's feelings ran. The more time she spent with Chloe and the more she learned about her life, the more Lois identified with this lovelorn reporter. How could she not provide a little insight?

"From what I've observed, I don't think Clark, mine or yours, is supposed to end up with his high school girlfriend." Chloe looked puzzled and yet hopeful. Look, I don't know your Lana Lang, but I've met a couple other ones. The one in my universe, Clark never told her and he has no regrets. In another universe, well, in that one the Clark did tell her."

Too curious to restrain herself, Chloe asked immediately, "Was he still with her?"

"Yes. When I arrived, they were engaged, even making plans to get married."

A shadow passed over her features. "So she did accept who he was."

"Not really. Lana told him that she cared, but used fear and emotional blackmail to try to twist Clark into someone he's not. Lana convinced Clark that no one else would ever love him if they knew about his abilities. She thought of him as a freak and tried to convince him that that is the only way anyone else would ever view him. In fact, it was his decision to use his abilities to help others that broke them up. She never truly accepted him, just pretended to."

Chloe shook her head over the unfairness of Lois's story. "But, using his abilities to help others is a huge part of what makes Clark, Clark. How could anyone who knew him think otherwise?"

"Using his powers to her, made him weird, not normal. Normal and keeping up appearances were very important to the Lanas I met. So though I haven't met this universes version, if she is anything like the Lana Langs I've met, Clark should be celebrating escape from her clutches."

Chloe leaned back smiling. "Lana's not that bad, but maybe… Maybe you're right. I worked very hard on accepting Clark and Lana being together. I used to tell myself that Clark would grow out of her, maybe he still will."

Lois smiled. "I think maybe he already has."


	14. Lois, Lois, and the Carrousel Club

Chloe fed the quarters into the sandwich vending machine and punched in her selection. The ham sandwiches really weren't too bad if you washed them down with diet cola. Ahh, Chloe thought as she bent to retrieve the sandwiches, everything is better with caffeine. She gathered her collection of comestibles and headed back to the basement. As she made her way down the staircase, she chuckled. It may be a banquet of stale bread and slightly questionable pork products, but it came from the Planet (albeit just the lunch room) so to Chloe Sullivan, it was canapés and caviar.

Chloe rounded the corner and stopped dead in her tracks. Lois, Chloe's Inquisitor by-lined cousin, was trying to wrestle the phone away from alt Lois. Chloe dumped the sandwiches and soda on the nearest desk and stepped into the fray. "What is going on here?"

Lois in her scarlet suit released her grip on the telephone receiver and stepped back huffing mildly. "I was just minding my business and answering the tip line when this, this… lunatic tried to snatch the phone out of my hands."

"Don't listen to her Chloe. You've got a squatter. I caught her sitting at _your_ desk, answering _your_ phone and pretending to be _you_. And look," she said pointing with the receiver at the article on the computer screen. "If I hadn't gotten here when I did, she would have made off with your work." Chloe took the phone out of Lois's hands and placed it firmly on the cradle. She turned back to explain to Lois, but was interrupted by an indignant squawk.

Advancing on her accuser and bristling with fury, Lois spit through her clenched teeth, "I have _never_," she punctuated her words with a jab to the other Lois's shoulder, "stolen _anyone's_ writing in my _life!_"

Regaining the ground she gave, Lois got back in her face. "Oh yeah? So you thought now was the time to give it a try?"

Lois whirled around and stifled a scream of frustration, "I wasn't stealing her article; I was helping to proof it."

"Ha, then where are all those squiggly red lines and hash marks. I'm a reporter too you know. I know how my copy looks after my editor is done with the proofing."

Lois rolled her eyes. "There are no editing marks because she didn't need any."

"Yeah, right. Chloe, can you believe the pathetic story she expects us to buy? Chloe?" She noticed her cousin was bent over, holding her sides and shaking. Lois put her hands on her hips. "Ok, what's so funny?" Chloe stood, wiped her eyes, and cleared her throat, trying to control her amusement.

"Sorry Lois, but she's telling the truth."

Looking pained, the brunette in the red power suite stammered, "She's Lois…Lane?"

Lois shook out her long light brown hair, "The one and only." Chloe snickered again. Lois frowned at her. "What _are_ you laughing at? Just who is this person?"

"I'm sorry Lois, it's just a big misunderstanding," Chloe apologized again. "This is Lo..," Chloe paused and racked her brain for a new identity for Lois. "This is Lori Kent."

"Kent? Is she related to…?"

"Yes," Chloe moved behind 'Lori' and placed a hand on her shoulders. "She is kind of a cousin, but Mrs. Kent is out of town and Clark…"

"Where is Smallville anyway?"

"Family emergency," Chloe answered, "he, ah…"

'Lori' jumped in, "He's staying with my husband out east."

Lois looked skeptical. "There's a family emergency out east where your husband is and you came here?" Chloe grasped Lois by the upper arm and led her a few paces away from Cousin Lori. She lowered her voice and whispered conspiratorially, "Lori and her husband are having some problems. They can't be together right now."

Lois glanced at Lori, "That is so sad. Is it just a tiff or something worse?"

Chloe scrunched up her forehead and replied truthfully, "Right now they are definitely separated, but I am hopeful they will be back together soon."

"Why is she here with you? You're not a Kent."

"I was around when this whole mess started, besides, she's works for the Daily Planet too and we've kind of bonded."

"Fine." Lois walked back and thrust out her hand. The women in crimson warily accepted the offered hand as Lois made her apology. "Sorry for jumping to conclusions, but this is a cut throat business, one can never be too careful. I'm amazed by how often I've seen one reporter do all the research and data gathering, only to have another swoop in and twist it for their own use."

Chloe looked at her watch; she was expecting a call back from Mr. Pennyworth anytime now. "Lois, not that it isn't nice to see you, but why are you here?"

She held up a finger, "Wait just a moment, let me get it out of my bag." She pulled a folded newspaper out and hid it behind her back. "I just wanted to show you that once again, yours truly will have her by-line on the front page of Metropolis's finest." Lois whipped out a copy of the Inquisitor and handed it to Chloe. The headline read:**_ IS_** **_METROPOLIS ON A VOLCANO?_**

Chloe sighed, "Oh Lois."

"What? Don't give me that look, I'm not lying, see," she pointed to the headline. "It's phrased as a question. As long as we cage everything like it is speculation, no one gets sued."

Chloe read deeper into the article. "Diminishing pigeon populations. Lois, these are quotes from my article. I can't believe you used my article to back up your crazy volcano in Metropolis headline."

"Hey, I did my research. One of the early signs of an awakening volcano are the large number of unexplained deaths of birds and ground mammals."

"There are no large numbers of unexplained deaths. The diminishing number of pigeons, and it is a slight dip, is due to lack of natural food sources, concentrated overpopulation creating health issues, and a group of overly enthusiastic pest control workers poisoning them. Their numbers are not down due to toxic gases that - leach out of the soil killing plants and wildlife," she quoted from Lois's article. "I can't believe you've made me a party to this!"

"Chloe, you are taking this too personally. I would have quoted from whomever the Planet assigned the pigeon story."

A new thought occurred to Chloe, "Did you write this because we watched Dante's Peak last week?"

"Well, maybe it inspired me. But look, you are not getting the big picture." She tapped the paper. "I'm on the front page." Lois smiled, willing Chloe to get behind her.

Quietly this time, Chloe sighed once more. "Congratulations Lois. I'm very pleased you are so happy."

Lois regally inclined her head. "Thank you. Now let's talk about tonight's celebration, oh and Lori, you can come too."

Lori's reply was interrupted by Chloe's ringing cell phone. She anxiously answered it. "Chloe Sullivan speaking."

Lois, aka Lori, watched intently for Chloe's reaction, both because she was very curious and because anything to keep her from dwelling on the Metropolis volcano problem was welcome. About an hour earlier, Chloe contacted the enigmatic Mr. Pennyworth and briefly explained their dire need for names of potential investors. Pennyworth guessed immediately the project needing funding was connected to the alloy he previously delivered. Hinting strongly of a solid prospect, he promised to call back with more information before 3 p.m. From the bright smile blossoming on Chloe's face, he brought good news. Lois settled on the edge of a desk and listened in on her conversation.

"Yes, we'd be happy to meet with him tonight. Just me? But Hamlish and Davinhoe are really the genius behind the project. They would be better equipped…" A worried frown settled on her brow. "I see…no, I understand. Certainly. Just tell me where and when." Chloe sat down at her desk and reached for a notepad. "Eight o'clock at where?" Her eyebrows rose. "The Carrousel Club? No, that's fine, just a more popular location than I expected."

Lois was getting bored by this long one sided conversation, though she noticed Lori seemed very interested.

Chloe frowned again. "A car? No, that's not necessary. I really prefer to drive myself." She shook her head, headless of the unseeing caller. "No, I don't think so. If I can accept not knowing even the name of who I am going to meet, he will have to accept my right to decline his generous offer of a…" Chloe closed her eyes and her shoulders relaxed. "Good, thank you. I really appreciate your help—yes I will, thank you."

Chloe flipped her phone shut and looked up to see one Lois admiring her headline again and the other waiting on tenterhooks. She told her, "I think we've got it."

"What did he say?" Her fellow Daily Planet reporter asked.

"What did who say?" Demanded Lois, interested once again. "Why are you meeting a stranger at the Carrousel Club? That place is pretty swanky, not really your scene."

Chloe glanced at her cousin. Keeping as close to the truth as possible, Chloe explained to the Lois on either side of her. "A contact of mine is setting up a meeting with a source. He wants to keep his identity a secret until he sees for certain that I came on my own." Chloe shrugged. "My contact said that the source would be basing his decision to, ah; participate in the article based on his judgment of my character. Something about since I was advocating the, ah, charity, he would determine if it was worthy by determining if I was trustworthy."

"So you're being vetted by some recluse. Poor Chloe, you'll miss out on all the fun tonight. Guess it's just you and me Lori."

"Oh, no. I wouldn't want to put you out," Lori stammered.

Feeling badly for even suggesting it, Chloe still added, "Actually, I was going to head back to Smallville tonight anyway. You might as well go with Lois. I'll end up getting in pretty late. Lois, you'll set her up at the Kent's?"

"Sure, no problem. I'll take care of Lori."

Lois cringed and muttered under her breath, "Help, Superman."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Returning to the elegant Carrousel Club for the second time in forty-eight hours did wonders for a girl's confidence and this time when Chloe allowed herself to be helped out of her vehicle; she did not mind the appreciative glances that came her way. For camouflage, she chose this time a basic black sleeveless cocktail dress with a scooped neck line. She wore her hair down, but gathered back. Lois (of the Lori Kent variety) called her look sexy demure.

On the elevator ride up to the top floor, Chloe clutched her purse and reviewed her talking points. Mr. Pennyworth seemed certain his contact would want to invest in the project. Chloe decided to share the truer nature of Milton and Victor's invention, but was still hesitant in revealing Clark and Lois's predicament. To what extant she shared that information depended on her judgment of his character.

She squeezed her clutch purse and was reassured by the solid outline belonging to her cell phone. With its internet capability, as soon as she discerned his identity she would excuse herself and run a quick background check before returning from the powder room.

The elevator doors glided open and once again the Metropolis skyline stunned her with its grand scope. A familiar host greeted her and inquired after her name. "I'm Chloe Sullivan; I'm to meet someone at 8 o'clock."

The man consulted a note on the podium and said, "Please wait in the Lounge," before ushering her once more into the plush velvet setting. Chloe decided the dimly lit room reminded her of a bordello; rarely do designers otherwise find the need for so much gilt and crimson in one area.

Chloe settled on the loveseat half hidden by a wine colored curtain. Instantly she was reminded of Oliver's friend. She checked the time. She arrived just a few minutes before eight, but there was no telling how long she would have to wait on an eccentric investor. She muttered under her breath, "I guess he was right; I will have to get used to it."

"Get used to what?" Asked a deep masculine voice from out of the shadows. Chloe jumped, not realizing she wasn't alone. A few rapid heartbeats later, she recognized the voice.

Unexpectedly pleased with the opportunity to let off a little steam before her contact arrived, Chloe chided Bruce haughtily. "Do you make it a habit to hide in the shadows and sneak up on people?"

"I have many disreputable habits."

"Honesty, hmm, to what honor do I owe this?"

"Perhaps I just was hoping for a little quid pro quo. What brings you back to my lair so soon?"

Chloe glanced around the darkened den. The design style would serve well for a vampire. Chloe shrugged and answered nonchalantly. "A familiar tale, I am meeting someone here tonight."

"Business or pleasure?"

"Business." She replied firmly.

"You need to live a more exciting life."

Chloe laughed, "Believe me, I don't need anymore excitement right now."

"Well then, will you be risking dinner?"

"It seems to be on the agenda."

"But once more, you are left to wait." He made a tisking sound, moved, and perched on the edge of a closer chair. "Leaving a beautiful woman alone is a crime, let alone forcing her to wait. There's no telling what could happen."

Chloe ignored his flattery and insinuations. "But you are playing the waiting game as well."

"Not really."

"No? Why do you say that?"

"Because the one I've been waiting for has arrived."

Chloe peeked around the curtain to catch a glimpse of who he was meeting, but the host stood alone in an empty lobby. "I don't see anyone." She caught Bruce watching her intently and gasped in dismay. "You? You're the possible investor?"

He leaned back delighted by her discomfort. "Why do you sound so surprised? Now, don't tell me the intrepid reporter Chloe Sullivan didn't dash right back to the Daily Planet and run a thorough background check on my humble personage."

Chloe frowned, "Truthfully, I haven't had the time." More truthfully, she'd forgotten about him in her quest to bring Clark home. "I don't even know your last name. So, you see sir, you have me at a disadvantage."

He smiled predatorily, "I'll bet that doesn't happen very often."

"Nor does it last very long," she promised.

He leaned forward and Chloe sat straighter on the settee, resisting the urge to back away. He snagged her hand and brushed his thumb over her knuckles. "I'm inclined not to balance our little game in your favor just yet."

Chloe snatched her hand back. "You find this amusing?"

"Very. I believe I mentioned before how difficult new distractions and amusements can be to find."

"You forget. I didn't buy into your image of the lazy playboy."

"Good, then you should be more inclined to just trust me. Shall we go in to dinner?"

Chloe narrowed her eyes and studied him thoughtfully. "I still don't know who you are. I've met men of your ilk before and while I do find those who lack ambition, deficient, there are worse alternatives," she said thinking of Lex and his many machinations.

"So spend some time with me and judge for yourself. Or if you fear your instincts might be unduly swayed and you can't trust your judgment, have a care for the high regard in which I am held by Alfred."

"Who?"

Bruce shook his head and made tisking sounds again. "My, my, either you have been _very_ busy or my informants exaggerate your ability to flush out the truth. Alfred Pennyworth, my butler and major domo." He shook his head again and smiled. "I'd be lost without him and right now, so would you." Bruce grasped her hand again and pulled her to feet. He then let go and stood with his arms crossed, studying her.

"Alfred rather took a liking to you and it is his opinion that we, meaning me, should render whatever assistance you need. Assistance meaning I am to open up the checking account and solve your funds issue. I think twenty thousand dollars ought to grant me some regard in your eyes; enough to last through dinner at least."

Chloe's temper flared. Her first impulse was to walk out and never look back, but Clark was too important to let ego get in the way. She took a deep, calming breath to help control her temper. "Just remember, I'm not a part of your purchase." He just looked amused.

Chloe risked turning her back on him for a moment and retrieved her beaded bag from the loveseat. She took another deep breath and offered a concession in their game of power. "I'll wait until after diner before beginning the interrogation. I won't even require your last name until then, but I won't go through with this partnership if I don't think I can trust you. So, believe me, if I'm not satisfied by what I find, I will not accept your investment."

Bruce leaned forward and lowered his voice. "Believe me, you'll be satisfied."

_**Author's note: He's back! Yeah, kind of surprised me too. **_


	15. A Dream and a Dinner

It was after midnight before Lois Lane, reporter for the Metropolis Inquisitor, finally left Cousin Lori alone at the Kents. Lois had insisted on a move night extravaganza complete with never ending popcorn and enough kinds of chocolate and candy to make Willie Wonka envious. Conscious of "Lori's" marital woes, Lois selected two of the most unromantic movies ever produced. _Hollywood Chainsaw Hookers_ was a particularly interesting contrast after _Seven Samurai,_ the three hour subtitled Japanese epic. But the extra butter on the popcorn and Lois's surprisingly good company made the evening, while long, enjoyable.

Chloe's cousin, not one to sit still, jumped up and down often for refills and seconds. She was also determined not to let Lori brood over her situation and constantly launched into new stories about one of the many career tracks she'd followed. She'd unexpectedly fallen into more jobs and opportunities than anyone "Lori" had known with the exception of her sister Lucy. Really, this world's Lois was remarkably similar to her world's Lucy. Chloe was right; she and the other Lois were two very separate people. To expect their lives to run parallel was ridiculous and once she stopped judging Lois by her expectations, she found Chloe's cousin a lot of fun. Still, when the midnight hour came, she was grateful Lois returned to her apartment somewhere in town.

"Guess it's just you and me sweetie," she told the adoring golden retriever as she let him in the house. The moment they pulled up, Shelby decided she was his new best friend. Out of consideration for Lois's allergy, he stayed outside during the movies, but she was happy to have the companionship now and she guessed Shelby agreed. When Clark slipped to her world, Chloe contacted a high school kid from a few farms over to come and take care of the horses and the Kent's dwindling herd of cows. The kid made sure Shelby got fed, but the poor fella was starving for attention.

Lois debated heading upstairs and turning in or waiting up for Chloe, but a jaw popping yawn weighted the scales in favor of sleep. Since Chloe claimed the couch for when she arrived later, Lois settled both Shelby and herself in Clark's bedroom. She slipped easily into slumber and soon she began to dream.

On the other side of an oval shaped window, a little girl with chestnut brown hair sat on a swiveling piano stool holding a pink cotton candy colored stuffed animal close to her chest and twisting gently side to side. Her head was bent low so Lois couldn't see her face. Then Lois's dream perspective shifted and she was seeing out through the eyes of the child. She raised her gaze and saw the reflection of a solemn five year old blinking in surprise. The girl was not sitting in front of a window, but rather in front of a gilt edged mirror.

A moment later and the reflection of the five year old dissolved and Lois saw her own adult image appear. Lois blinked and the next instant she was looking out of the mirror at the child. The child tilted her head, studied Lois, and asked, "Where's Chloe?"

Lois shook her head sadly, "I don't know."

The little girl sighed. She looked away and began playing with her stuffed animal. She smoothed its silky fur and made the rabbit do a few hops across her lap. Lois couldn't help but smile. It was the same pink Chloe bunny that currently rested in her bottom drawer at the Planet; it just lacked the wear added by time and love. While she was studying the rabbit, the room beyond the little girl came into focus. Lois recognized it as the living room of one of her old childhood houses. He father worked for the military and when she was young they moved many times. She looked closer at the little girl. Was that her as a child? It must be.

"Where is Chloe?" The little girl asked.

Lois felt an overwhelming wave of sadness and her eye pricked with tears. "I don't know." The child watched her for a moment and then went back to playing with her toy. Though Lois was aware she was dreaming, she still felt like she failed the little girl; she felt as if she should have known the answer. But she didn't. How could she? The only information Lois had about her Chloe was from a dream. Even if that had been a real memory, not just a figment in her mind, how would she know what happened to Chloe? The last time she saw her, she was clutching her yellow Lois bunny and being dragged away by her mother. No, her conscious mind insisted. In the dream, it was Lois dragged away. But this was the same house where the little girls were playing and Lois was still here.

The child Lois looked up from her play. Her wide brown eyes froze her counterpart in the mirror. Lois felt her pulse began to race and her heart pound. Fear, anguish, and dread built. The five year old leaned closer to the mirror and asked again, "Where is Chloe?"

Lois tried to form the words she had given before, but she couldn't speak. She shook her head. The little girl slid off the stool and went to the mirror. She raised her hand and touched the glass surface. Ripples moved away from her fingers like waves from a pebble tossed in a still pond. Circles grew and crossed each other, changing and reacting. The child looked up at Lois and this time demanded, "Where's Chloe?"

Frustration spiked and anger surged. It wasn't fair, it wasn't fair. She can't be gone. It wasn't fair. Lois trembled with rage.

"WHERE'S CHLOE!" The child shouted and stamped her foot.

"SHE'S AT THE DAILY PLANET!" Lois screamed back and woke sitting upright and trembling. Shelby, his head resting on the edge of the mattress, whined and wagged his tail. Without thought, she reached out and stroked his head, but his presence wasn't enough to ward off the remnant emotions from her dream. She shook with fear, rage, anguish and indignation. It was not fair. What was not fair? She bowed her head and raked a hand through her hair, frustrated over her inability to come up with the answer. Suddenly, the darkness and silence that before had been so soothing threatened to overwhelm her.

Lois threw back the covers and scrambled out of the bedroom flipping on lights as she passed. Coffee, something hot, that was what she needed. Shelby padded behind her in to the kitchen. She fumbled with the coffee pot for a few minutes and then leaned back against the cabinets to wait for it to fill. She tapped her fingers impatiently on the counter top before restlessness overtook her and once again forced her to move. She went to the fireplace, stoked it up and added a log. She thought about turning on the television, but she didn't want to sit, didn't want to brood over her dream or over how much she wanted Clark's arms around her right now.

Shelby froze and cocked his head to the side, hearing something beyond the scope of humans. He whined and trotted to the back door. Lois followed asking, "What is it boy?" Shelby started turning in circles and barking. Lois peered out the window. In the distance, a light hovered over the fields. It was headed their way.

Xxxxxxxxxxxx Earlier in the evening in Metropolis xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

A romantic evening, some gentle probes for answers capped off with a trip back to his hotel. All in all a most satisfying agenda, satisfying that is, if he had managed to move past the preparation stage. He thought he had planned well and felt that the initial criteria for seduction were present: romantic dinner location, check; beautiful and witty dinner companion, check. But that was as far as his arrangement brought him. At what point during his attempt to mix a little business with a great deal of pleasure did he lose control of the evening? Maybe he never truly had control, but oh, he knew when all his chances slipped away, the moment he mentioned a Kansas farm boy named Clark Kent.

The evening certainly began according to plan. Ms. Sullivan arrived, and by a stroke of extraordinary good fortune, hadn't discovered he was Gotham's most eligible tycoon. While he hadn't harbored any concern over his other guise, it never occurred to him she would not track down his public identity. Nevertheless, he embraced the unexpected luck. Though preconceived notions often worked to his advantage, during their first, brief encounter, Ms. Sullivan set herself apart by questioning and rejecting the persona most of the world never tried to look past. That made him very curious and the little information Queen offered only whet his appetite.

He'd have hated if his reputation as a playboy chased her off or worse, had prompted her to turn dinner into an interview. For a journalist to give an account of the unbiased truth, they had to stay objective, remain uninvolved, and keep an appropriate distance. Appropriate distances were the last thing Bruce planned for Ms Sullivan. True, he had been prepared to dangle an interview if needed to keep her in his company. He sought her out for more reasons than just the basic laws of attraction. Her request for the alloy raised too many questions to leave unanswered.

When Oliver had asked on her behalf for a shipment, Bruce was beyond intrigued. He'd imagined many scenarios why a young woman would need to speak with Oliver, but he never considered that. No one should have been able to trace the metal back to Queen, not unless they already knew about Oliver's midnight masquerade parties. Bruce almost smiled in the dark; he didn't have much of a leg to stand on when criticizing wardrobe choices, but the merry men jokes just didn't get old. Not that now was a good time for levity.

In order for the alloy to be traced back to Oliver Queen, she'd have had to take several intuitive leaps made logical only if privy to Ollie's life as the Green Arrow. Bruce should know; he set up the layers upon layers of dummy corporations and foundations to keep a very healthy buffer between him and anyone curious enough to go looking.

Some day, someone would try to track him down from the left behind bits of equipment the Batman invariably had to sacrifice. Bits that were custom made and owed much of their lightweight strength and durability to the metal composite Bruce had acquired. Beyond its basic usefulness, the alloy also had untapped potential as a conductor. Queen used it for his electric stun arrows and Bruce suspected they had barely touched on its applications. But the unique properties the alloy possessed posed a problem. The equipment left behind held clues. So someday, someone would try and trace it back to him. They would try and they would fail. If the paper trail to Queen was a tangle, the connection to Wayne Industries was lost in a labyrinth, but just to be certain, he made a note to add a few more layers.

In the mean time, Bruce had been pleased over the events that placed Ms. Chloe Sullivan at his mercy. Mercy, right. Alfred had warned him his arrogance was getting out of hand. Ah, but maybe Alfred could be blamed for his miscalculations. After all, when he sent Alfred to play delivery man, his job had been to scope out where and to whom the alloy was headed, not to play knight to damsel in distress. Of course when Alfred offered savior to the damsel, he expected Bruce to be the knight. But while Bruce admitted Ms. Sullivan intrigued him, he had no intention of following the foolish footsteps of the medieval knight. If his history served him accurately, in those days courtly love was in vogue and a fond look or a bit of lace was not what he was after. Chivalry was dead. Long live equal rights and the sexual revolution. Still, at least dinner went smoothly. But after dinner….

Chloe murmured her thanks as the waiter removed her dinner plate. She dabbed the napkin at her mouth and asked, "So, tell me why I should trust you, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce finished sipping his coffee. "Mr. Wayne is it. What happened to waiting until after dinner was over before learning my last name?"

"Dinner is over," Chloe shrugged innocently, "and sometimes the answers just come to you."

Bruce smiled cynically. "The wait staff at the Carousel is excellent."

Chloe lifted the fine porcelain cup and sipped her coffee. "Yes," she agreed mildly, "a very knowledgeable group."

He leaned more firmly back in his chair, relaxing. "So just what does this new found knowledge tell you? I assume your extended visit to the powder room netted you more than a shine free nose."

"It is hard to ignore the opportunities available from today's technology."

"Careful that they don't start controlling your life."

Chloe pursed her lips and frowned briefly, "Too late for that. But you're not interested in my cell phone's capabilities."

He swirled around the dark liquid in his cup. "I don't know. My report on you, Ms. Sullivan, didn't indicate resentment toward progress and the tethers it has placed on us all. Why this new found antipathy toward technology?"

"I don't dislike new technology, but sometimes an open mind can cause unforeseen problems."

"Is that what happened to you Ms. Sullivan? Just how did the Daily Planet's youngest reporter find herself as a, shall we say, promoter for Milton Hamlish and Victor Davinhoe, who at best, could be considered would-be fringe scientists? You must believe in them a great deal. What else could prompt the liquidation of all your assets for such a project?"

Her mouth compressed into a thin line. "Yes, I find their work very important."

He signaled the waiter to refill their cups and proceeded to place an order for dessert. "We'll have the chocolate mousse." Chloe smoothed her napkin on her lap methodically while waiting for the waiter to leave them.

"Excuse me for taking the liberty, but it would be a sin to dine at the Carousel Club and not sample their mousse. Sadly, my dinner with Oliver did not afford me time to linger for desert. You don't object do you?"

She raised an eyebrow, "To dessert? No. To this cat and mouse game? Yes. I don't like games."

"Life is but a game."

"And I bet you excel at hide and seek."

"True, but I believe we are playing Truth and Consequences right now."

"Don't you mean Truth _or_ Consequences?"

He shook his head and leaned forward. "You're not that naïve, even with the truth, there are always consequences."

"Which leads me back to you and your proposed investment. I…"

He interrupted, "Oh, we are beyond the proposed stage."

Confused, Chloe asked, "What do you mean?"

"I've already met with Hamlish this afternoon and set up a line of credit, payable by me of course, with the requisite suppliers," he informed her smugly.

"What? You gave him the money? Why? You don't even believe their claims. They dabble in purely fringe sciences, remember?"

"No, I believe I said they are _considered_ to be fringe scientists."

"So you do believe in their work."

"I wouldn't go that far, but I'm willing to put up the money to find out. Milton promised a dramatic demonstration on Saturday or Sunday. You'll be there?"

Chloe laughed and smiled, "Oh yes, I'll be there."

He frowned. "Why do I feel like I just missed something?"

The waiter returned and placed two dishes of rich, whipped chocolaty delight before them. Chloe found a renewed appetite and reached for her spoon. "Oh, this is good." She devoted her concentration to the confection for another spoonful or two before she asked, "So, if you contacted Victor and Milton directly and already arranged financial support, why am I here?"

"Didn't you enjoy dinner?" He asked evading the question.

"The food was excellent."

"But not the company?"

"I found the company very tolerable."

Bruce laughed. "Dammed by faint praise. For a writer, you are being very stingy with your words."

Chloe licked the last bit of mousse off her spoon. "I still don't know if you can be trusted in the long run."

"What does it matter to you? According to Hamlish, your involvement with the project is only short term."

"Perhaps, but I've made certain promises to them and I'd like to know if I'm keeping those promises. Beyond that, I feel it is important their research does not fall into the wrong hands."

"And you feel I'm the wrong hands?" He inquired.

"I don't know." She said honestly. "Since your return from the dead, your business reputation has been stellar, but your personal reputation has been more of…" She paused searching for the right word.

"More that of what? A wastrel? A libertine? A dissipated reprobate? I've heard all the pejoratives, Ms. Sullivan. No need to be delicate."

"I was going to say your personal reputation has been of a showy nature. Over the top really. Kind of like a magic act. You know, make a lot of noise over there and nobody will look over here. I wonder why that is. You were gone a long time, Mr. Wayne, long enough to be declared dead. It's not surprising I'm curious, if not down right suspicious."

"I'd expect more sympathy from you Ms. Sullivan. After all, you too have experience returning from the dead and while I might not have provided a complete itinerary of my absence, I don't thing my actions have been any more suspicious than say freely associating with the man who tried to kill you for sending him to jail. Not any more suspicious than the way your name, even as a teenager, gets mixed up in so many police reports. Tell me, just who is the Clark Kent that was usually with you? His name shows up even more often than yours. Did CSI have that profound of effect on farm boys growing up in Kansas?"

Chloe's smile froze in place. "I was editor of the school newspaper, Clark helped out. We went where the stories were."

"Seemed the other way around, very often this Kent fellow was the story."

"You have been misinformed."

"That could happen. One could easily look at the circumstantial evidence and come up with wild assumptions. For example, this Clark Kent, I also have a report that says he has been a close friend of Lex Luthor. Information like that coupled with his tendency to gravitate toward scenes of violence might make some wonder."

"Let me relieve your mind. He and Lex aren't exactly BFF's."

"Probably wise."

Chloe leaned forward, curious, "Lex gets pretty good publicity these days, interesting that you aren't a fan. Do you know him?"

"I've met him at the occasional business function."

"And you are a friend of Oliver's. Hmm." With a contemplative air, Chloe leaned back. "What was it you said last time we met? That you and Oliver handle your companies the same? No, you said you conduct business with a like mind." She stared hard at him.

"Is that significant?"

"Perhaps," Chloe said still weighing and measuring him as he blotted the corner of his mouth with the napkin.

"Speaking of Oliver," Bruce said tossing down the napkin, "just how did you come to meet him? I know he was in Metropolis for a while, but you…," he paused to choose his words carefully.

Chloe cocked her head, "I'm what? Not his type? Not very glamorous? More friends material? I've heard all the pejoratives Mr. Wayne. No need to be delicate." She said smirking while tossing his words back to him.

"I was going to say you don't travel in the same social circles."

She smiled again. "Oh, sometimes we do." She took a sip of her coffee and said, "Oliver Queen dated my cousin while he was here. They met through Martha Kent, Clark's mother; she's the state senator for district 17."

"Amazing how Kent's name just keeps coming up."

"Hasn't Oliver mentioned him? They became friends during his time in Metropolis."

"No, he hasn't. So does Kent have a habit of striking up friendships with billionaires?"

"Why, are you in need of a new friend? Clark might have an opening. Like I said, he and Lex don't spend much time together these days."

Smiling in spite of himself, Bruce signaled the waiter to refill their coffee cups. This conversation was not heading in the direction he had hoped. He was neither closer to discerning how she tracked down the alloy, nor getting any further with his seduction attempt, but he was enjoying himself. That happened rare enough to make note. Before he could redirect the conversation, Ms. Sullivan was checking the time on her phone.

"It is getting late. I really must be going."

"But we are just now getting to know each other."

"We've been talking for three hours, that's been plenty of time."

Normally Bruce would agree, but somehow despite the non-stop conversation he had managed to make very little progress. "No, the evening is much too young. Why don't you come back to my hotel for a nightcap?"

"Your hotel room?" Chloe narrowed her eyes at him, attempting to determine if he was trying on purpose to be trite and predictable. She wasn't sure. "I don't think so, besides we're both investors in Milt and Victor's project. We're bound to bump into one another sometime in the future if you really need to speak with me again."

Bruce recognized her lack of interest and switched tactics. He signaled the waiter to bring the check and said, "All right, I'll just have the limo pull around and take you home."

"That's not necessary, I have my car," Chloe frowned and grew suspicious, "but you should know that."

Holding back both a sigh and the slightest desire to squirm under her disapproving glare, he informed her, "I took the liberty of sending it back. I will see you safely home."

Fuming Chloe retorted, "You take too many liberties and as it happens, I am not staying in Metropolis tonight. I was planning on going directly to Smallville; after all, I had everything I needed packed and waiting in my car."

"Smallville?" Bruce seized on a new topic, hoping to direct conversation to a safe topic until her ire at his manipulation lessened, "Home of your farm boy friend and extensive police record."

Chloe bristled, "Neither I nor Clark have ever been charged with anything."

He really wasn't very good at picking neutral conversation topics with this woman and though he had a feeling it could only get worse, he pressed on observing. "You get very defensive when I bring up this Clark, interesting effect he has on you. I think I'd like to meet him." Her eyes flickered for a moment. Was that panic or pain that flashed by?

"Sorry, but he is out of town," she told him in a more subdued manner.

"What? He's not going to be there for the big science experiment? Sad excuse for a friend, if you ask me." His words fueled the fire and he watched in fascination the fury that threatened to take control away from Ms. Sullivan. She mastered her passions before she spoke.

"No, I'm not asking you," she told him quietly, yet firmly. "Now I thank you for your investment, but you had no right to steal my transportation and have no reason to continually poke your nose in my business, let alone my friend's business."

Her icy detachment irritated Bruce. He wanted to stir her up again. "I think ones friends can say a lot about a person. That's why I likely will have to do more extensive research on your known associates." Once more fire flashed in her eyes and yet remained completely under her command.

Chloe lifted her coffee cup and delicately sipped without shifting her eyes away from his. Though she displayed no outward manifestation of change, Bruce felt something in the air shift and harden. He could read his quarry. She was done with games. She picked up the challenge he laid at her feet and responded to his observation. "I agree, your friends _can_ say a lot about a person, after all, you are a close friend of Oliver Queen." She took another sip. "Interesting man," she said pointedly. "Moved to Star City not too long ago. Interesting city too," she paused and made sure he was paying attention, "so interesting that the Green Arrow felt compelled to move there too."

Bruce blinked once before replying, "Odd fellow that Green Arrow."

Chloe smiled icily and asked, "So, you are not an admirer?"

The waiter returned with the bill and Bruce pulled his platinum card out of his wallet and sent it back with the waiter. "What's to admire?" He asked leaning back with no expression. "Some nut case in a costume running around playing Robin Hood."

His reply brought another cold smile to Chloe. "Funny, I'd have thought you would appreciate the Green Arrow."

"Why did you think that?" He asked trying to suppress his growing irritation over this line of questioning.

"If for nothing else than his habit of making generous donations to charities. Wayne leads the industry in charitable donation. I thought you would appreciate his actions."

Where was she headed with this topic? He tried to end the speculation by dismissing the subject. "There hasn't been any solid proof those donations came from the Green Arrow"

"That's not how I've heard it." The waiter returned with his card and the print outs. Chloe continued when he left again. "So if the Robin Hood give away doesn't impress you," she paused and smiled again, "perhaps it's Gotham's own hometown hero you identify with."

Bruce stilled as he was signing the credit card receipt, "What?" He asked looking up.

Chloe took a final sip of her coffee and batted her eyes at him coquettishly, "Oh, you know, the Batman?"

Bruce studied her, confused by her words and actions. Was she really making an accusation or was her interest in all things odd just coming out. Oliver warned she was good at finding secrets, but this was ridiculous. "I don't take much stock in urban legends." He growled with less control than he liked.

She put her cup down on the table, pushed back her chair and picked up her purse. Bruce rose as well. Without looking at him she said, "You'd be surprised how much truth accompanies the fiction. Anyway, I'm getting off topic. I'll just have to have the maître d' call a cab."

She took only a step of two before Bruce grasped her by the elbow and with mock solicitation led her to the entrance of the restaurant. "That isn't necessary. If you insist on going home, I can drop you off."

"No thank you," she told him while disengaging his grip. "I want to get back to Smallville as soon as possible and I suspect that your kindness will involve some kind of delay."

"If you are really so concerned about speed, I can do one better. I will fly you back tonight."

Chloe was intrigued by the notion for a moment before shaking her head. "Tempting, but I really need my car tomorrow." Bruce held up his hand to forestall any further protests and made a rapid series of phone calls to secure helicopter transportation and a driver to deliver her car to Smallville before sunrise. Chloe briefly interrupted to give him the Kent's address, earning a frown for her effort.

In no time at all they were fleeing the bright lights of Metropolis. Bruce skillfully operated the copter himself and though the noise levels could have been blamed, neither made effort at conversation.

Chloe found the speed exhilarating as they flew with the spotlight out front, cutting a bright swath through the darkness. In less than thirty minutes, she saw the lights from the Talon and the businesses on Main Street. Soon they were hovering over the fields and closing in on the Kent farm. The cows scattered in the pasture and Chloe could see most of the lights burning inside the house.

A shadow loomed behind the back porch screen door. For just a moment Chloe forgot and thought it was Clark. In that moment her heart skipped and sang a chorus of I'm homes; in the next, her eyes stung and she fought for control, clenching her fists until her nails dug deep into the soft flesh of her palms. Pain was a reminder of struggle and success takes struggle. We're going to do it. We will succeed, Chloe promised Clark in her mind. We have the people, the parts, and the money to put them all together.

Just hold on.

I'm coming.

_Author's note: Sorry for the delay (insert broken record joke), I was sick last week. Will now be back on track._


	16. Intergang info

Five days.

One hundred and nine hours since he fell down the rabbit hole.

Three days.

Seventy-two hours since Lois went through the looking glass.

One Hour.

Sixty-seven minutes since Dr. Hamlish and Davinhoe told him there was nothing in their power they could do to send him home. He had been here too long. It was too late.

He was late, late, for a very important date.

Too late.

Something shifted. He'd been assimilated. They couldn't preserve his original resonance; couldn't use it as an address to locate his home universe.

Two days.

Forty-eight hours until Lois was locked, trapped in her new environment unless his people were clever and used the resonance recorder, then she had hope. But Clark, they said there was only one way home for Clark.

A miracle.

Did a miracle happen only once in a lifetime? Had he used up his only chance when Jor-el turned back time? Lana lived. Jonathan Kent died. Would his father still be alive if he hadn't…?

Clark slammed shut the door to that vault of guilt and recrimination. The doctors revealed his father's heart condition had been much worse than he or his mother had known. They weren't surprised by his collapse. Had the power that demanded balance for Clark's life force already selected its counter weight? Would he have lost his father no matter who else suffered? He didn't know and would never know to his satisfaction.

But, could miracles come again in a lifetime or were they like the proverbial lighting strike? Was he lost now? As good as dead to everyone he knew and cared about? Would his mother find any comfort during his absence knowing he existed somewhere? He had left so much undone in his life. So many feelings unexpressed. So many questions unanswered and so many more unasked.

What had he been striving for in his life? Normal. That was all he ever wanted.

It wasn't enough. It should never have been enough. The years he spent pursuing Lana and the normal life she represented were also years he tried to forestall or diminish who he could be and suppress who he already was. His time with Lana was rife with secrets and lies because deep down he knew she wouldn't be able to handle his reality.

In the end, he had been right. She might have tried to deal with his secret, but her inability to live with it and maintain silence cost her life. He made his deal with Jor-el and that changed. Her life was returned. His father's was taken.

He should have walked away then, but he didn't. Instead, he wasted too much time looking back at something that proved weak and flimsy. Now he was free from those backward perceptions and free from the twisted notion of love he thought tied him to Lana. He would always care what happened to her, but she didn't have a place in his life and now, faced with the prospect of never seeing her again, he knew the stranglehold she had on his emotions was over. He could live without Lana.

Clark glanced around the park. He was near to where he caught that purse snatcher, but he was barely aware of when he got there. After finishing with Dr. Hamlish and Dr Davinhoe he was to meet his alter ego back at the Daily Planet. Kent had left him at Star Labs when Perry called an emergency staff meeting. It was only after he had gone that the Doctors apparently felt brave enough to share the news, the bad news. On some kind of autopilot Clark left and started walking toward the Planet.

A kind of fatalistic fog bogged down his senses and turned all thoughts inward. The numb sensation reminded him of how he felt in the weeks after his father's death, lost and powerless. Yet, he knew this time wasn't comparable. The fight wasn't over even if he wasn't the one still fighting. The two scientists said Lois's fate was dependent on the shrewdness of his people. Davinhoe and Hamlish were pretty astute in this world; hopefully their younger counterparts would prove their acumen. But Clark wasn't resting his hopes on their intellect. His hopes were still tied to Chloe, the one person that mattered to him the most.

He jerked back, stunned like he hit a wall. The instant that thought flashed through his mind, his feet stopped moving and he froze in place.

No one mattered more to him than Chloe.

The idea reverberated over and over in his mind. Was it true? The thought didn't come from nowhere. He trusted her with every fiber of his being. He'd never been closer to anyone else. She made him feel lighter inside and laughter came so much easier when she was around. They could and did talk about everything, even things that now he knew must have caused her pain. He couldn't bring himself to even contemplate a life without Chloe. He could imagine a life without his mother. He thought about life without Lana. But he couldn't even send his mind in Chloe's direction without twisting pains stabbing his gut. No, he had to believe he would see Chloe again and when he did, maybe then he could put a clearer name to his feelings.

His mental fog cleared and he hurried along the rest of the way only stopping once he arrived in front of the Daily Planet. Chloe and the Daily Planet were forever linked in his mind. Chloe's building was completely different than Lois and Clark's, but both sported a metal sphere that did more than merely identify the building. It brought with it a certain air of authority and strength that reminded him that like the mythical Atlas holding the world on his shoulders; the Daily Planet had a heavy reputation to maintain and uphold. He stood outside for a moment longer wondering about the Planets significance in his life and to his alter ego. Somehow, just looking at the globe above the building gave him a hopeful, positive feeling. He shook his head. Maybe Chloe was right, maybe there was just something special about this paper.

Clark took the elevator down and scanned the bull pen for Kent. He was just coming out of the Editor's office and was doing his best to reassure a very agitated Perry White about something. Clark didn't need to enhance his hearing to understand what they were saying.

"Kent, you're being too reckless. For once Lois is the sensible one. Why don't you just follow her lead and go into hiding until this whole Mindy Church/Intergang thing blows over."

"Perry, it's not going to blow over. You said it yourself; the police don't know where to look. Mindy Church is back in jail. No one knows how Intergang is still running. Until we can figure out who is trying to hold it together in her absence and who put out the hit; it will never be safe for Lois to come back home. Please understand Perry, I've got to do this," Clark entreated.

Perry roughly shoved a hand through his thinning salt and pepper hair. "Ah, hell. Fine. I won't pull you off this story, but you've gotta take precautions, be careful."

"I promise," Clark told him as he started to walk away.

Perry called after him, "Oh, and you shouldn't stay alone at your place."

"Chief, I'll be fine…"

Perry waved his reassurances aside. "No, no, now look. Alice is visiting her sister this week, so, ah, you just come and bunk with someone who has had death threats in every one of the last four decades."

"I really appreciate the offer, but I'll be fine, besides I'm not staying alone."

"Oh, who are we talking about? That, that intern cousin of yours Jimmy mentioned? Is that him?" Before Clark could answer, Perry began winding his way over to his quarry, leaving Clark to trail after him. Perry clapped an enthusiastic hand on his subject's shoulder and introduced himself. "I'm sorry I haven't had a chance to greet you before. I usually like to personally shake the hand of anyone working for me, hell, even if it is just temporary. You can tell a lot about a person by how they manage a handshake, helps me really get a feel for the person."

Clark did his best to cover his confusion and shook the grizzled newsman's offered hand. "What does my handshake tell you?" Clark asked bemused.

Flexing his fingers stiffly, he replied, "That they grow them strong in Kansas. That's something you've got in common with Kent here. You've got some gripe on you boy." Lowering his voice to a conspiratorial level Perry began, "So, now, ah, I hear that you've been staying with Clark, but now something has come up and I don't think," Perry paused as he realized something, "say, I didn't catch your name."

Clark blinked and blurted the name most recently on his mind. "Sullivan…ah, I'm Cal Sullivan."

"Sullivan huh, an Irish lad. I knew a Sullivan once, hailed from Kerry Claire. He hitched a ride over on a cargo ship and opened up an authentic Iris pub. He made the best corned beef brisket on the eastern seaboard. Mighty fine people the Irish. I bet your mother's a redhead."

He blinked again. "Yes she is." Perry clapped him approvingly on the back again.

"Fine, fine, now, as I was saying, something's come up and it's not safe for you and Kent to stay alone, so you two boys pack up and come back with me."

Clark pushed his glasses up to hide his cringe. "Really chief, he'll be fine. He can handle himself."

"What? This youngster?" Perry looked him over. "They may make 'em big and strong out in the heartland," he said still flexing his hand in an attempt to recover from Cal's earlier gripe, "but Intergang is a nasty business. Clark you need a bodyguard around not a…"

"Mr. White," Clark aka Cal Sullivan interrupted, "I'll be alright. I can take care of myself and can keep an eye on Clark. I've had experience with this kind of situation before."

"Experience? What are telling me? Are you a police cadet or something?" Mr. White put his hands up in the air and spread his hands wide at this new idea. "Now if you're a police candidate or have training in the military, that's something different. I don't mean any disrespect with the youngster comment. The older I get the younger everyone else seems."

"Well, no, I haven't signed up formally, but I have training in the justice field and have worked for years now with my local police department in the apprehension of fugitives. Believe me, I'll be fine," Clark said reassuringly. From what Kent had told him, Perry was like family and he wouldn't want him to worry.

Resigned, Perry shook his head. "Stubborn, another thing you have in common with Kent. Ok, fine, I can tell when I'm licked. I'll just let you two hard heads get to work, but we're upgrading security, so Cal, I'll get you an ID badge. Jimmy!" He called as he walked away.

Clark adjusted his glasses and smirked. "So, Cal Sullivan huh?"

"It was the first name that came to mind," he said feeling a faint blush. He tried to change the subject. "So tell me about Intergang."

Kent took a seat at his desk and launched into a brief explanation of Intergang. "Intergang is the guiding force behind nearly all the crimes committed in Metropolis. Except for crimes of passion and opportunity, if someone is breaking the law, they probably have some tie to Intergang. You want to rob a bank, break into a jewelry store, or even knock over a liquor store; you have to get permission from Intergang."

"Wow."

"But that is not where it stops. Intergang will oversee the operation, vet the plans, and provide people or distractions, anything that it takes to make an operation succeed. For their services, they take a sixty percent cut from every job. If a job goes wrong, they resort to blackmailing or bribing officials to get anyone who is caught off the hook. If blackmail or bribery doesn't work, they just get rid of someone. Sometime through coercion, sometimes by scandal and sometime all it takes is a simple hit. As long as they maintain this central organization, we couldn't stop them. Lop off a few tentacles here and they just grew back even stronger over there."

"Didn't you have an idea who was behind it?" Clark asked.

Kent twiddled with a pencil on his desk. "For a long time we suspected the widow of Frank Church, the Costmart King, of reinvigorating Intergang, but except for some early charges that got dismissed on technicalities, we couldn't prove it. Without a direct line, the District Attorney's office wasn't willing to risk prosecution again."

"On Friday, when I first got here, everyone in the newsroom was talking about Mindy Church. You and Lois found something to connect her to Intergang, didn't you?" Clark guessed.

Kent nodded. "It took a lot of digging and few lucky breaks, but we managed to establish a pattern to Mindy Church's corporate and personal appearances. Repeatedly charity functions and store openings corresponded to increased crime waves. Once we identified a few players, we traced back the money and established connections. Most crucial of all the information was a video tape actually showing Mindy Church accepting a cut of the action and handing over a briefcase. The DA's office has the incriminating documents, but the tape showing that Ms. Church had it in her possession was somehow destroyed. Without the two witnesses to account for her actions, her lawyer could probably get the whole case dismissed."

Clark was beginning to understand what was going on. "These two witnesses wouldn't happen to be a couple of Daily Planet reporters would they?"

Kent tossed the pencil he'd been fiddling with down on the desk top. "Yes, that would be the award winning writing team of Lane and Kent. We've both given a deposition already, but those kinds of legal documents have a way of being lost or accidentally destroyed during Intergang trials. I guess they think if they can succeed in disposing of me or Lois, then Intergang is back in business." He picked the pencil up again and tapped the tip against the paper. "In a way, I'm grateful that Lois is way out of town. Normally I would never be able to convince her to go into hiding. At least this way I have some time to try to figure this out."

"What can I do to help?"

"My contact over at the Justice department is letting me look through the files and records that came out of Mindy Church's offices. There is ton's to go through. Somewhere is a name or an address that will lead us back to who is holding the reigns while she is out of the picture. It's a needle in a haystack at this point, but it's the best shot I've got. How's your speed reading?"

"Out of practice," Clark admitted ruefully.

"This will sharpen it up," he promised with a grin as they headed for the elevator. Before he pressed the call button, Jimmy showed up with his camera in hand.

Something about the guy bugged Clark.

"The chief says to get a picture of Sullivan here for ID," Jimmy explained and quickly got off a few shots. He checked the viewer, "Ok, that's going to work. I'll have the badge ready when you get back. Oh and your name, is it just Cal or is that short for Calvin or something?"

Clark just wished Jimmy would leave. He forced a civil response, "Just Cal is fine."

"Ok. Oh and sorry for the whole name mix up last Friday." At Cal's confused stare Jimmy elaborated. "You know, you came in Friday night looking for Lois and Clark and I totally misunderstood and thought you were looking for some girl. I'm taking scuba lessons, must have water in my ears or something to mistake Cal for Chloe," he offered with a good natured grin. "You must have thought I was nuts talking about dating the interns with you being one of them. I didn't mean to come off all creepy or anything. We cool?" He asked holding out his hand.

"It's fine, no big deal," Clark reassured him and mentally awarded himself a couple points for not crushing his hand. As Jimmy scampered off to deal with the new ID, Clark tried to understand what it was about him that rubbed him the wrong way. His reaction wasn't logical, but Jimmy's eagerness last Friday to track down the non-existing Chloe Sullivan still irritated. Clark didn't like how Jimmy seemed to view the intern list as his own private dating service.

The elevator dinged and he and Kent entered the empty elevator. Kent waited until they were between floors before hitting the stop button and asking for the update from Star Labs. 'Cal' filled him in without sugar coating the news. A hint of a frown threatened at the corner of Kent's mouth, but he resettled his features to a placid expression. He restarted the elevator without commenting about Clark's news and then changed the subject back to Intergang and the documents they were going to look at. Confused by his lack of reaction, Clark called him on his evasion of Star Lab's discouraging report.

"Did you understand what Dr. Hamlish and Davinhoe said? They've all but given up. Except for working on replicating their resonator recorder, they aren't doing anything." Too late Clark realized Kent was not unfeeling, but overwhelmed with feeling and barely holding it together. Kent's mask cracked before him and Clark saw in a flash the fear and turmoil bubbling inside.

With obvious effort Kent tried to explain his actions. "I understand exactly what's happening, but," he shook his head, "I'm doing my best not to think about it. I feel so damm helpless." He raked a hand through his hair in frustration. "I have to stay positive. You trust your people and I'm holding on to that." He closed his eyes and shook his head again, his voice breaking softly. "I can't even begin to imagine having to live my life without her. I can't think about it. I have to focus on cleaning up this Intergang threat so it will be safe when Lois does get home." He lifted his head and saw understanding in Clark's eyes. "I've got to believe she'll be back. It's the only way I'll stay sane."


	17. Mrs KentMrs Kent

Chloe made it a point to thank the Daily Planet's newly arrived replacement intern for relaying Bruce's latest message before tossing it in the trash bin even though she knew she wouldn't be able to duck him much longer. Not only were calls coming more frequently, but they were fast losing all semblance of request. The latest message was terse and to the point. **"Davinhoe's, 7PM Funding at stake**." Ha, too late to threaten funding, Chloe thought. The AU-ray was nearly rebuilt and at precisely 5 am Saturday morning, a time when power surges would be barely noticed, she and Lois would slip into another world.

A fresh wave of nerves attacked and Chloe clutched her midsection reflexively. The past week hadn't chased any of the butterflies in her stomach away, but it had accustomed her to their presence. Oddly neither her scheduled turn as an inter-dimensional traveler nor her impending meeting with Bruce Wayne, mystery tycoon, left her more nervous that today's luncheon with Martha Kent, whose calls Chloe wished she could have ducked. Unfortunately, part of the responsibility of sending you best friend to another universe involved explaining it to his mother.

Chloe sighed. Mrs. Kent called Tuesday after hearing from Lois about Clark's impromptu trip and Cousin Lori's unexpected arrival. Chloe assured her that Clark was fine, said she couldn't explain over the phone, but promised to tell her everything when Mrs. Kent got back from her trip. Thankfully, she agreed to finish her senatorial obligations rather than return early. Chloe didn't know if she could have comfortably handled a second Mrs. Kent.

Since the night Bruce dropped Chloe at the farm, Lois had been decidedly on edge. She brushed off her restlessness that evening blaming a nightmare, but her frantic energy kept building through the week. By Tuesday night, Chloe abandoned her notion of hiding Lois at the Kent's farm. Though Chloe was still hoping Martha would become accustomed to the new way Lois organized her kitchen, (spices by order of shading, recipes in order of Clark's favorites - pies listed first, canned goods alphabetically by country of origin) at least Shelby seemed fine with his red bows and matching pedicure.

Once back in Metropolis, Lois still acted like an ADD kid off his meds, but at least there was more for her to do. When Kahn's assistant sent Chloe a note to get the Planet's newest interns settled, Chloe turned them over to Lois and while one washed out during Lois Lane's boot camp for newsies, the other three were getting the best mentorship of their lives - even if it did come at them at mach speed.

Beyond imparting her wisdom on investigative journalism and the use of spell check, she marshaled their labor toward all the projects that tend to pile up and eventually move down to the basement. Thanks to Lori Kent and crew, the digital and film based photos were all catalogued and current and the tottering towers of dusty daily papers destined for the morgue were finally laid to rest. The lowest level of the Daily Planet gleamed from the intern's efforts to please an exacting task master and basement politics being as they were, nobody stopped to find out if 'Lori Kent' actually worked there.

Initially, Chloe was relieved to be back too. Staying at Clark's home and knowing he couldn't just pop up behind the door was too hard to take for long. Unfortunately, she found the same problem in the city and to her surprise, thoughts of Clark crowded extra heavily when she was at the Planet.

So while Chloe sat at her desk working, she also battled back memories of the proud smile that accompanied her first front page headline and recalled Clark's quiet insistence that she seek out her mother while she could.

Every time she looked up, she saw the basement window where the car came smashing through the stained glass, hurtled uncontrollably toward them. She relived the exhilaration of whirling safely in Clark's embrace when he stopped it a mere arms length away.

Every day she walked back and forth over the spot where in fear and in longing she wrapped her arms around him, showed him a piece of her soul and for just a moment, they let the world go by without them.

A shiver of dread still threatened to run down her spine when she went past the old style phone booth. The relic it housed had called Clark to what could have become his doom.

Every corner she turned in the Planet held a memory of Clark. It didn't even matter that he never slipped up to the top floor or walked through the corridors of the layout department on level five. Chloe was fast discovering that Clark lurked just about everywhere she went. He was always with her in whatever she did and while that thought used to comfort her, now it was a torment. She craved his presence, not a ghostly figment in her mind.

Yes, in less than twenty-four hours, she would (if everything went right) see him again, but while just the thought of seeing and holding him thrilled, she was afraid it wouldn't be enough. A part of her wondered what she would do when she found him. Despite what she told Lois, could she really be content as just his friend? Or more realistically, had she ever been content to just be his friend?

The sound of high heels clip clopping toward her desk penetrated her reverie. Chloe looked up expecting to see Lois back from her latest field trip with the interns. She was conducting them on a tour of the printing presses, a real ground up education. Instead of Lois, she found Mrs. Kent with a pinched look about her mouth and dark shadows under her eyes. Her vibrant red hair contrasted almost harshly against her unusually pale skin. Chloe scrambled to her feet. "Mrs. Kent, you're early, I thought we were meeting at one." Chloe glanced at her clock; it was just half past eleven.

"I couldn't wait any longer; I have to know what's happened to my son." Martha twisted the purse straps she held in her hands, wringing them tightly while trying to keep her voice steady.

Chloe could see the desperation in her eyes and kicked herself for putting Clark's mother through this worry. Why had she thought Mrs. Kent would be better off not knowing exactly what was going on? Chloe knew if she was left to wonder her imagination might drive her insane. Glancing around the basement level, she spotted a now empty conference room.

Just yesterday, the space was filled with defunct carrier contracts and other old documents the IRS expected them to hold for seven to ten years before disposal, but this morning, Lois had the interns ferry box after box to the newly designated paper storage room in the back of the printing plant.

"Ok, we'll talk, but not out in the open." Chloe grasped Martha's arm and led her to the quiet corner room, shut the door firmly and lowered the blinds for privacy. No sense in causing any speculation about the Senator visiting the Daily Planet.

Martha slid into a seat at the table as if her strength was about to give out. "Chloe, what is going on? I haven't heard from Clark in over a week, but Lois is convinced he is visiting Jonathan's cousin out east and offering marital advice. Did I get that right? Who is Lori Kent? I'm telling you, I've never heard of her and I'm pretty sure that my husband does not have any family out east. Not even anyone as east as Missouri!" She exclaimed, her voice rising in pitch and tone.

Chloe sat next to Mrs. Kent and covered her tightly clenched fist. "Mrs. Kent, please calm down, I can explain everything. I'm sure Clark is just fine. Everything is going to be alright, Clark might even be home in a day or so."

"Home from where? I swear I tried to simply accept that he will be all right, but I need to know. I'm his mother; I have a right to know," she insisted, her voice cracking.

"Yes, you're right," she said in soothing tones. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have tried to keep this from you; it's just that when I tell you, you're going to think it's crazy."

"Chloe," she said, her voice heavily laden with irony, "my son is an alien from another planet who shoots laser beams out of his eyes."

Somewhat chagrined Chloe bit her lip and sighed. "Ok, your right. Let me just say it and then we can get to the part where you call in the thugs from the loony bin." Chloe took a steadying breath before continuing. "Clark is in Metropolis, except it isn't this Metropolis. It's out east and in… a parallel dimension."

Chloe scrunched up her face waiting for Mrs. Kent's expressions of shock and disbelief. Martha cocked her head and rubbed her temple, but said nothing. Chloe cautiously continued, "I was doing research on these two grad students and one of them panicked and accidentally transported Clark to another world. A few days later we tried to get him back only to grab that world's Lois Lane by mistake. Tomorrow morning when we are able to send Lois back, I'll go with to get Clark." Martha pressed her other hand along side her face and stared vacantly over Chloe's shoulder. Her silence was killing Chloe. "Mrs. Kent, please say something," she begged.

Martha slowly shook her head and shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know what to say. I think I believe you because why would you make up something so bizarre, but Chloe, another dimension, really?"

Chloe leaned forward earnestly wringing her hands. "Look, I know how it sounds and believe me if I hadn't been there when it happened and when Lois came through I'm not sure what I'd think, but it's true."

"But Clark's ok?" Martha asked squeezing one of Chloe's hands.

Chloe nodded. "Lois confirmed that he was there and that she and that world's Clark Kent were trying to help him get home."

Martha looked up startled by the thought. "Clark is hanging around with his twin?"

"Not exactly," she prevaricated and then quickly tried to fill her in on the particulars.

"So," Martha began trying to make sense of what Chloe told her, "Clark is with another Clark who looks nothing like Clark but still is Clark."

Chloe didn't know whether to cringe or laugh. "Pretty much," she agreed with a wry smile.

"And Lois, you said in that world she is married to Clark? So young?"

This time Chloe did cringe. She ignored the first part of Martha's question and concentrated on the second part. "In addition to the physical appearances, there is at least a ten year age difference." Chloe paused when outside the conference room she heard a sudden rush of activity. She jumped up and peeked through the blinds. 'Lori' and company had returned.

Chloe opened the conference room door and beckoned her over. 'Lori' came as soon as she finished meeting the replacement intern and dismissing them all for lunch.

Placing a hand on the small of Lois's back, Chloe ushered her in and closed the door. Both 'Lori' and Mrs. Kent glanced at her in confusion. Chloe gave each a reassuring smile and with a nod to Mrs. Kent and a sweeping hand motion toward Lois, she made her introductions. "I'd like you to meet Lois Lane. Lois, this is Senator Martha Kent." Each woman froze when hearing the name of the other.

Martha recovered from her surprise first, stood, and extended her hand. "Hello it's very nice to meet you." Chloe nudged Lois, trying to knock her out of her trance.

Lois blinked a few times and accepted Martha's greeting, parroting her words back, "It's very nice to meet you too." Still shaking her hand, she stared at Martha frowning. When she realized her mindless behavior, she dropped Mrs. Kent's hand like a hot potato. "Oh, I'm sorry. It's just you're Martha Kent, Clark's mother. Not my Clark, but…, wow you're beautiful. Not that my Martha isn't and I love her and Jonathan as if they were my own parents, more sometimes. But you! Wow, you are so young!"

Lois was too busy stumbling over the foot in her mouth to notice Martha flinch at Mr. Kent's name, but Chloe saw a brief shock of grief invade her eyes before she graciously thanked Lois for her kind words.

"I sound like an idiot, don't I?" Lois realized and looked to Chloe for confirmation.

"No," Chloe assured her, "You're just nervous."

"I'm sorry Senator Kent."

"Just Martha, please."

"Martha." Lois relaxed a bit and smiled. "I'm not even sure why I'm so anxious all of a sudden." Lois shook her head, trying to understand. Tilting her head, she answered thoughtfully. "Maybe it's because I should know you. Really, really know you, but you're not…" The break in her voice preceded a sudden rush of hot tears. Martha quickly pulled out a tissue and pressed it into Lois's hand.

"I'm sorry," she said dabbing at her eyes. "I didn't mean to break down, it's just you're the first big reminder I've had in days that I'm not anywhere near home. I mean," Lois laughed through watery tears, "I did meet this world's Jimmy Olson on Monday. I even met myself on Monday and I only wanted to cry when I found out she worked at the Inquisitor."

She took a deep breath, feeling steadier. "And Chloe has been great keeping me company and busy, not to mention being responsible for making sure the ray will get fixed." Lois turned to look over her shoulder at Chloe. "I know why Clark, your Clark, relies on you so much." Lois swiped at another tear that escaped and turned back to Martha. "When she leaves, I'll probably be blubbering again." Lois looked down and the room was silent except for the sound of Lois threading the tissue through her fingers.

Lois bit her lip and raised her head, trying to smile. "But seeing you, Clark's mother, but not my Clark just reminds me that in this world," Lois swallowed hard and shook her head, "there is no my Clark." Her face crumpled again and Martha's maternal instincts kicked in. She gathered Lois into her arms.

"It's going to be alright." Martha repeated, patting her back.

"I know I'm making a fool out of myself. In my head, I know I will see him tomorrow, but there is this tiny voice screaming, what if it doesn't work?" Lois wiped her tear-stained cheeks and stepped back from Martha's comfort. "I'm being selfish. This can't be easy for you."

Martha, still holding on to one of Lois's hands said, "You're right, it's hard, but it sounds like you've got a plan in place to fix everything. Yes," she said squeezing Lois's hand, "I'm scared something might go wrong, but my family has been in worse spots and we've pulled through. You have to hang on to hope." Martha smiled, "Strangely, meeting you kind of relieves me."

"Really, why?"

"I worry about Clark's future. I want him to find his place in the world and find that special connection with somebody that brings the kind of happiness that his father and I had. It comforts me to know there is a place where Clark, any Clark, has found that kind of joy. I can tell that you love him very much."

Lois blinked rapidly to hold more tears at bay and a half laugh escaped. "He's my best friend," She said simply.

Chloe fumbled for the doorknob behind her, trying to escape before either woman remembered she was still in the room. She had to be the strong one. This was her fault. She couldn't weaken, couldn't show her fears too. Besides, next to the mother and wife of the victim, what kind of standing did she have? What did it really matter what she felt? She wasn't even a girlfriend, just a friend. She slipped away from the emotional tableau before she forgot her place and gave into her impending tears.

Once on the outside of the conference room, she silently pulled the door shut. Still facing the door, Chloe gave into her weariness for a moment and leaned her forehead against the smooth wooden edge. A ragged sigh escaped her and a moment later, her cell phone rang.

Back on her desk, where she left it, it rang again. Chloe took a deep breath and exhaled. The phone rang once more. Chloe took another calming breath to collect herself, stepped back from the door, turned around, and froze. Sprawled elegantly on the edge of her desk, her cell phone ringing in one hand and his phone flipped open in the other was Bruce Wayne. He met her gaze and smirked. I guess, Chloe thought, I can't avoid him any longer. "Damm."


	18. Temper Tempered

Sprawled unapologetically on the edge of her desk, her cell phone ringing in one hand and his phone flipped open in the other was Bruce Wayne watching her with a smirk plastered on his face.

"Damn," Chloe muttered under her breath. What was he doing here? When he called some twenty minutes ago, the message he left said to meet at Davinhoe's at seven that night to talk about funding. She sighed. He was here now and there was not any way she could pretend _not _to notice his presence. His arrogant, smug presence. Fine. He wanted her attention; she would give it to him.

Spine straight, head held high, Chloe shared a saccharine smile with her unwanted visitor before strolling over to her desk and holding out her hand. "I believe you have my phone."

He arched an eyebrow and dropped the phone into her open palm. Chloe inclined her head and said, "Thank you," still dripping with sweetness. Her cell rang again and she glanced down to read the incoming number. To no surprise, she recognized it as one of the many numbers Bruce had used to try to contact her. Chloe raised her eyebrow and let some of her irritation seep through. "You can hang up now."

Her scowl seemed to delight the inscrutable Mr. Wayne and his smirk broadened into a smile as he snapped shut his phone. "Why Ms. Sullivan, if I didn't know better I might think you weren't glad to see me."

She fluttered her eyes at him and used an overly bright voice to ask, "Whatever gave you that idea?"

"Call it instinct," he dryly suggested. "That and you have been trying to avoid me."

"Oh, I wouldn't say I've been trying to avoid you."

"No?" He folded his arms. "You don't answer your phone, you won't return my messages, and you have on two occasions left Davinhoe's loft just before I'm supposed to arrive. If you're not trying to avoid me, what would you say you've been doing?"

"Succeeding," Chloe smirked, "not just trying. Though," she sighed dramatically, "all good things do come to an end."

Bruce shook his head and made tisking sounds. "Such a loss of manners, whatever would your mother think."

The light behind Chloe's eyes dimmed and something hard and sharp emerged. The note of playful teasing left her voice. "I don't feel any great need to maintain civility with the man who stole my car with intent on kidnapping me."

Bruce frowned and stood up, well aware he had stepped in it somehow, but not sure where. He tried to regain the rhythm of their parry and thrust banter. "Kidnap you? I think you forget, I didn't snatch you away from your home, but delivered you directly to the doorstep of your choice, even though it goes against my chivalric notions to leave you at another man's homestead." Chloe narrowed her eyes in genuine irritation. It did not take a great detective to see she was not amused or pacified.

"Am I supposed to be grateful that you provided remedy for a problem you caused?" Sarcasm dripped from her lips. She stepped closer and laid a hand suggestively on his chest. "Should I be overwhelmed at your generosity or," she leaned closer and whispered, "awed by the power you command. Just a snap your fingers," the sound of her thumb and forefinger rubbing together rapidly filled the silence, "and a copter is gassed up, cleared and ready for take off. Should I be impressed?" Chloe asked with acid tones.

Bruce removed her hand from his chest and held it between his palms. He shook his head. His tone of voice was free of any game playing, "No," he said, "but you could accept my apology for whatever I did in the last minute to make you this upset." His genuine regret pricked Chloe's conscious. She knew she was over reacting to his joking comment about her mother.

Suddenly deflated of her anger, she released a long sigh, edged past him and took a seat at her desk. Bruce shifted so he was facing her again. Chloe glanced down into her waste paper basket and noticed his latest message missing. Further investigation revealed the note smoothed out and positioned next to her phone. Rather than comment on its sudden resurrection, she asked wearily, "What are you doing here? I thought our meeting was at seven tonight?"

"Hamlish and Davinhoe still have something cooked up to show off tonight, but I thought I'd stop by and get your R.S.V.P." He watched her expression and thought it safe to add, "I thought I'd make sure we've no scheduling conflicts."

"Really," She said sounding like her typical self again. "I don't need a babysitter." She paused and pointed to the message sitting by her phone. "Nor do I enjoy having a spy in my office." She recrumpled the note into a ball and sunk it into the garbage where it belonged.

"Spy?" He asked with mock incredulity. "No, nothing like that. Melinda was just being helpful. When I explained our little communication problem, she was happy to call me back and confirm your presence here in the office."

"I imagine you are very used to accommodating people like Melinda."

"If I spend much more time with you I'll have to get over that, won't I." Chloe huffed but could not quite hide her smile. Bruce took that as a good sign. "Since we are both here," he said glancing at his watch, "and lunchtime is upon us, why don't you let me be accommodating this time and take you to a nice little Italian place I know over on 7th street."

"Sorry, I already have plans," she told him with glee.

"Plans, huh. Do they involve your small town partner in crime?"

"No, I believe I mentioned before, he's out of town." Chloe tilted her head and gave him a curiously guarded look. "Just why are you fixated on Clark? Do I have to warn him about a potential stalker?"

"I'm just interested in whatever or whomever it is that stands in the way of me getting to know you better."

"Standing in the way? Getting to know me better? Ha!" She let loose a bark of disbelieving laughter. "Who are you trying to kid? I've noticed you've been unusually eager to spend time with me, and while I do have a good portion of self-appreciation, I honestly doubt you caught a sudden case of the storybook romances. Also, we both know you didn't fund this project out of the kindness of your heart either."

"At least you acknowledge I have one," he inserted dryly.

"I've had plenty of time since our last meeting to do some digging. Wayne Industries could have set up any kind of scientific investigation you want." As she started getting lost in her train of thought, her eyes lost their sharp focus and some of the ire that had returned seeped back out of her voice. She leaned forward on her elbows, her head propped up in her hands, staring out into space. "You didn't need us; you must have some other reason for meeting with me than just this project."

Chloe glanced up and noticed Bruce sitting expressionless. She shrugged. "Hey, I don't mind, it suited my purposes, but why don't you stop wasting both of our time and just tell me whatever it is you are so desperately trying to romance out of me and we can be done with your little game."

Bruce tightened his jaw. "Games have their place too."

Chloe nodded, unsurprised by his less than forthcoming response and continued to play out her line of reasoning. She had known from the beginning something was odd about Bruce Wayne's involvement, but hadn't invested much time thinking it through. Faced now with his persistent presence, she had ample incentive to piece together his true motivation. Leaning back in her chair she ticked off what she knew.

"You can't be after me because of the AU-ray. Davinhoe and Hamlish are the only ones who understand that contraption and you certainly don't need me to act as a go between. Believe me, the open credit lines you established guaranteed streamlined communication with that pair." She looked up, lost in thought, and folded a finger to show dismissal of this idea. "This can't be about the Batman comment; I threw that out there way after your initial interest. Hmm."

Bruce watched with fascination as her agile mind examined and rejected one scenario after the next. He wasn't sure how he felt about her blatant dismissal of any amorous intent on his part or her blasé reaction to her Batman accusation. Should he be concerned? She wasn't actively pursuing that angle, yet at the same time, Chloe hadn't called her assertion nonsense. Bruce was curious to find out where her deductive reasoning would take them.

"You contacted me after I contacted Mr. Pennyworth and I met him the night he delivered the alloy." Chloe blinked rapidly. "Is that the connection, the alloy?" Bruce merely lifted an eyebrow and sipped his coffee. "I must still be missing something." She tapped her pen against a scratch pad covered with half formed sentences and numbers. "If you hadn't delivered the alloy for Ollie, I'd think you were trying to get a hold of it for yourself, but obviously you know all about it." She paused and looked up, a notion dawning on her.

"But very few people would know Mr. Queen was the source. Victor and Milt certainly hadn't been able to track it down." She nodded to herself. "That's what you wanted to know, how I figured out the source of the alloy." She glanced over in triumph. "Not telling you by the way. Either you know already or you don't need to know, but the real question is why would you care?"

Bruce fought the urge to sit up straighter. He didn't expect Chloe to keep persuing her line of thought.

She nibbled on the end of her pen and then smiled beautifully. "You wouldn't care. Not unless Queen Industries wasn't the end of the trail." Chloe tucked her pen behind her ear and leaned forward still grinning. "Tell me Mr. Wayne; has anyone in Gotham analyzed those amazing gadgets used by the Dark Knight? If I were a betting kind of gal, I'd wager my future chances at the Pulitzer Prize that those devises contained a special kind of metal alloy."

Bruce took another sip of his coffee. "You certainly have an active imagination. I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I don't need to have any other reason to pursue you than an interest in testing this attraction. As for my investment in the Au-Ray, you could say I did it out of a childhood love of science fiction, no big mystery here."

Chloe shook her head ruefully. "Here comes the plausible deniability. Honestly I don't care." Chloe grabbed her purse and stood up, intent on encouraging Bruce's departure before Senator Kent came out of the conference room. "The last thing I need is another super hero to keep track of. It's like they're popping up everywhere," she mumbled under her breath.

Bruce cocked his head toward her, not sure if he really heard her correctly, "What did you just say?"

Chloe smiled sweetly and said, "Nothing."

Bruce chuckled. "Plausible deniability, huh."

"Deny everything; confirm nothing. My new personal motto."

"Mine is not to take no for an answer. How about lunch?"

"I can't, really. Do you take rainchecks?" She smiled slyly. "To sweeten the deal I'll even promise to bring Clark along since you are so fascinated by him. Who knows, you might have a lot to talk about."

Before he could reply, the conference room door opened and Martha and Lois spilled out laughing even while brushing away their tears. They hadn't taken two steps when Senator Kent recognized Bruce. "Mr. Wayne," she said extending her hand while walking their way. The politician was in full command. Bruce took her hand automatically while Chloe made quick introductions.

"Bruce, this is Senator Martha Kent."

"Ah," he said, "Clark's mother."

"I'm glad I got the chance to see you. Lois told me about your involvement with the project and I want you to know how much I appreciate your investment."

Faintly puzzled at her involvement, Bruce nonetheless accepted her thanks while behind his back Chloe exchanged panicky looks with Lois. "Ah, we need to get going and Mr. Wayne was just leaving."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that." Mrs. Kent lamented. "Are you positive you don't have time to join us for lunch? I'd like to do something, after all, if it wasn't for your financial assistance, who knows when I would see my son again."

"See your son?" Bruce glanced at Chloe in time to see her stifle a groan. "Why am I not surprised? Somehow I got the feeling Clark Kent's name was going to come up again."


	19. Defining Home

Friday afternoon, Clark slipped in with a thinning crowd of Met U students heading to the study carousels in the old library building. He kept walking until he reached the back hallway and the seldom-used original staircase leading to the sub basement. He struggled with the eerie sensation created by the duplicate building. Was it just last week that he and Chloe stole down a mirrored version of these steps seeking the unauthorized lab? Chloe's intel on the lab's location had been great, but their timing superbly lousy.

Clark reached the bottom of the first set of stairs, went around another turn, down a hallway and descended the even lesser used sub level steps. Just as they were back in his world, the steps were steep with overly narrow treads. Worn and cracked in some places, the metal rebar showed through the cement, ready to trip the unwary.

He had kept a hand on Chloe to insure her steady descent, an unnecessary precaution really. He wouldn't need to be already touching her to stop a tumble; he out raced cars and bullets without difficulty. He had kept a hand on Chloe because he liked the connection, the contact. Something he admitted to himself only now.

What little light filtered down from the upper hallway was blocked by the twist at the final landing. He didn't need light to find where he was going so he skipped searching for a switch. Last week with Chloe, the hallway buzzed and flickered from a failing florescent fixture. The rest of the hallway sported burnt out or dimming tubes.

Chloe pronounced the bad strobe effect "highly creepy" and begged Clark to keep watch for escapees from Arkham Asylum. He scoffed saying someone would have to be insane to travel all the way from Gotham just to lurk in the basement at Metropolis University. Chloe laughed and said yes, that's the whole point of being crazy.

Still, for all of her joking, she stayed glued to his side and restrained her normally exuberant curiosity to the extent of letting him go (without protest) first into each of the many storage chambers off the main corridor. In hindsight, it occurred to him that a simple scan beforehand would have kept this nightmare from happening. He could have used his x-ray vision instead of stealthily peering around doors, but he'd been enjoying the way Chloe plastered herself to his back while trying to see around him. Her soft curves were distracting. Clark figured the unexpected jolt of electricity flooding his system kept him too preoccupied to notice the inhabited lab at the end of the hallway.

He should have known he was headed for trouble that night. Before they left from the Planet, he kept zoning out to her explanations. Rather than listening when she described who they were after, he was busy trying to decipher why her sweet scent of citrus, newspaper ink, and something uniquely Chloe was causing his heart to race. Enhancing his sense of smell, he lifted out and analyzed each layer, separating and sifting through the chemical aromas from her shampoo and body wash and tried to pin point the trigger to his reaction.

It came down to something that simply was Chloe. He couldn't label it, but he couldn't deny it. Not anymore at least, though he'd been very good at denial during the past few years of their friendship. Maybe coming to his senses about Chloe only after being trapped in another world, was fate's way of punishing him for taking so long in the first place.

Clark walked the remaining length of the hallway, pushed open an outer door and stepped into the space that would have housed Milton Hamlish and Victor Davinhoe's lab in his reality. At least the pair from this dimension had been able to tell him why they would be working in the University basement. Normal offices or living spaces would not have access to the level of power they needed to open a rift between the universes.

Small stuff could be managed, but only tapping directly into Met U's separate power grid granted them the energy needed for human travel. Not too many places could boost separate power grids. They were lucky no on had stumbled on their spot yet.

Clark looked at the room crowded with boxes and beakers. He wasn't sure what he was hoping to see, but the only sign of recent activity came from the footprints he'd made in the dust last week.

Why was he here?

Kent got word of an oil refinery explosion somewhere in Asia and likely would be out of touch until tomorrow at the earliest. Once by himself at the Daily Planet, Chloe's absence was crushing. The wrongness of being there without her hit him hard. Normally the Planet was the one place he felt closest to Chloe, but today, he was drawn back to the last place he'd seen Chloe, the scene of the crime.

Clark shook his head in amazement over the foolish notion he hadn't been able to get rid of. All the way across town and even as he came down the corridor, he'd held on to an irrational hope that if he just came back, then this place could send him home.

Home.

Home wasn't a fixed place. This world's Clark Kent exemplified that concept. Earlier in the week, Kent's parents had insisted they come for dinner. The visit was one of the brighter spots in the past few days. Mrs. Kent must have intuitively known how badly they needed a break from endless digging on Intergang and the relentless worrying over their situations.

Kent offered to fly them out to Kansas, but in the end opted to travel "old school". They held a moderately competitive race, but unlike the occasions Clark ran with Bart Allen, the contest did little to lighten their mood.

They paused outside on the porch of the farmhouse while Kent pocketed his glasses and straightened his tie. Before he could smooth his wind ruffled hair, Mrs. Kent flung open the door and ushered both of them inside.

Clark had to look away, overcome with emotions, when first Kent's mother and then father enveloped their son in embraces. Clark Kent was home and yet no hug or expression of faith from his parents could wholly remove the shadows from his eyes. Home for him was wrapped up with Lois; without her, he had no home. Still, being with his parents lessened some of his pain.

Kent formally reintroduced Clark to his mother and father and Clark mumbled an apology of sorts, not really knowing how you can apologize for being the catalyst of disaster. But, where he expected at least a hint of blame, there was none. Mr. Kent shook his hand and clapped him on the shoulder. "These things happen; it's not your fault."

Before Clark could process that, Mrs. Kent exclaimed, "Oh you poor thing!" And enfolded him in a hug as warm as the one her son received. Clark closed his eyes and for a moment, it was easy to pretend the maternal concern was from his own mother.

She pulled back and took Kent's hand too. "Everything is going to be alright, I just have a feeling. Now come with me. Dinner is all ready. I bet you boys haven't had a decent meal all week."

Jonathan rubbed his hands together, "And boy has she been cooking," he added helping Martha to herd the boys to the dinning room. "I'm pretty sure the three apple pies weren't for my benefit."

"Oh, Jonathan, they both have to keep up their strength and this one looks like he is still growing." She laughed tilting her head to take in his extra height.

"Martha, don't tease the boy, besides, you make it sound like we forgot to give our Clark his vitamins."

"Heavens, like Clark needed anymore energy."

They sat down to dinner where Mrs. Kent plied them with mounds of comforting foods and constant good humor until Clark found himself opening up about his life. He told them of the meteor showers and how for the last six years, he'd been dealing with the resultant infected people. He told them about finding out at fifteen he was from another planet and his dad showing him the ship. Kent told him about his encounter with Kryptonians and cautioned him again about Lex Luthor.

They laughed when he told them about Super Shelby swiping dinner. He had them howling when he told them what made him decide he was in love with Lana Lang.

"All my life my mom had been telling stories of how it was love at first sight for her and my dad. I grew up hearing how she was walking across campus, just minding her own business when she saw my dad and immediately went weak in the knees, her head started spinning and felt so nervous she was sick to her stomach."

Jonathan took his wife's hand and gave it a squeeze, remembering their first meeting like it was yesterday.

"So when I was about eight or nine I went with my mom to pick up the flowers for some town event. Lana's aunt, who adopted her, was the florist. I remember not thinking much about her, just noting another kid in the shop, but when I walked by her I tripped, shattering the vase and scattering a couple dozen white daisies in the process."

"Did she trip you? That Lana always was a sly one, never trusted her."

"Mom," Kent exclaimed with astonished laughter.

"Well I didn't," she said unabashed.

Clark wasn't sure how to react to her comments, so he just answered her question before going on with his story. "No, she didn't trip me. I was about ten feet from her when I got this awful cramping in my stomach, my head started pounding and my legs felt like they were going numb. I didn't say anything to my mom because I was convinced I knew what was going on. The symptoms fit."

"Symptoms? For what?"

"Love. I was freaked out too. I mean, in my mom's stories, she met my dad, got married and moved to Smallville leaving her parents behind. I didn't want to have to go live with somewhere else and I didn't want to leave my parents. Once we left I felt fine, so I calmed down pretty quickly."

Mr. Kent was chuckling and Martha smiled and asked curiously, "Did you figure out what was wrong?"

"Not for a long time. The next time I was around Lana, the same thing happened, only this time instead of daisies everywhere I bumped into a ladder with a tray of paint on it and…you can imagine."

"Oh dear," Martha laughed.

"By the third time, I decided I had to accept my fate, I was convinced I must be in love whether I wanted to be or not. I had calmed down some when I figured out that usually the girl moved in with the boy. I was kind of bummed I'd have to share my room though, and with a girl too!"

Jonathan slapped his knee laughing and Mrs. Kent asked, "What was it though? Obviously, you hadn't fallen in love. What was causing you to get sick and weak like that?"

Kent from the other side of the table answered for him. "Sounds like kryptonite." His parents' heads whipped to him and then back to Clark for confirmation.

Clark gave them a sheepish smile. "Yeah, it was kryptonite. She had a necklace she always wore made with a meteor rock, but it took me years before I figured that out. In the meantime I thought my one true love was Lana Lang."

Martha threw her head back laughing. "Oh, I'm sorry dear, I shouldn't laugh," she apologized while still laughing. "Puppy love can be so serious." She used the back of her hand to wipe away tears from laughter. "It's just I get a picture of you in my head," she started snickered uncontrollably again, "thinking that she's the girl of your dreams," she snorted, "when in actuality," she doubled over, trying to hold it back, "she was poison!"

Jonathan hooted and everyone, even Clark, succumbed to fresh gales of laughter. Clark finished his story by admitting after Lana stopped wearing the necklace they became friends of a sort and in the end, he and Lana did try dating. In the end, while he did develop genuine feelings for her, the relationship never felt wholly right. "So that was about a year and a half ago," Clark concluded.

Martha slipped a hearty sized slice of pie before all her boys and asked, "So seeing anyone lately? Maybe anyone by the name of Lois?"

"Mom," Kent said warningly, but with much affection.

"What?" She shrugged her shoulders. "I'm curious. You fell for her right away, why not him?"

"Me?" Clark sniffed in amusement. "Fall for Lois? I never really thought about that happening."

Surprised, Martha pressed for details. "Not even a little?" He smiled and shook his head. Martha sighed. "Well, you're young still. At least do you feel some kind of strong emotion around her?" She asked hopefully.

"Mom!" Kent laughed at her relentless attitude.

Clark laughed too, not really embarrassed by her overt matchmaking. "She used to irritate the life out of me, but I guess no worse than what a sister would be like." He shrugged. "Now I'm used to her and she is Chloe's family."

Thinking, he shifted in his chair. "Chloe worries about her a lot. Worries and wonders if Lois will every really finding something she can do on her own. She bounces all over when it comes to work. When she for some reason decided to stay in Smallville, my mom hired her over at the local coffee shop, then my dad had her working on his campaign, and when my mom became a State Senator, she gave Lois another position. Lately she has been working at the Inquisitor, but Chloe has been giving her too much help. Lois is always dropping by the Planet to pick her brain or borrow research."

"Huh." Mrs. Kent leaned back in her chair, feeling let down and disappointed by what she heard. "It's Lois Lane we are talking about, right?" The girl he was talking about didn't measure up to what she expected.

"I don't think the Lois in my world and this one turned out the same."

"Maybe not," she murmured. Then a light bulb went on in her mind. She perked up and asked, "What about her cousin, that Chloe you were searching for? Is there anything going on between you two?"

"She's my best friend." He answered immediately, his brow furrowing.

She noted his emotional reaction and raised an eyebrow in a speculative manner. "Lois and Clark are best friends too," she said knowingly.

Clark dropped his attention to his plate and scooped a huge bite of pie into his mouth trying to buy some time, he was not comfortable talking about Chloe. She was too far away and he missed her too much to enjoy the light teasing.

Seeing his discomfort, Martha grinned and glanced over at her husband.

"Martha, I think you've tortured him enough," Jonathan insisted. Martha playfully batted at his hand, but to Clark's relief, changed the subject.

At the end of the evening, Kent switched into his Superman attire and went strait to patrolling. Clark headed back to Metropolis, but veered off track, stopping once again at the mountain lake. As it had before, the deep, cool waters provided a blessed insulation from the rest of the world and Clark sought peace in his solitude, but peace no longer came to call.

He thought about his visit to Smallville and the Kent's farm. In many ways, it was very similar to his world's version. If he was honest though, even in his world, the farm didn't feel entirely like home anymore, not since his father died and his mother became too busy being a Senator to find herself often at home.

Home.

He wanted, needed to go home, but his definition of home was changing. Like Kent needed Lois to find solace, to be home, Clark realized he needed to find his way back to Chloe if he wanted to reclaim that feeling of peace and happiness.

Maybe that was why he was here in the basement staring at footprints in the dust and replaying memories. This was the closest he could get to Chloe right now. He had the urge to sit down and not move. Maybe if he just waited he'd find himself pulled back to his rightful place. He closed his eyes and let the seconds go by and then the minutes pile up. He didn't know how long he stood motionless before finally acknowledging nothing had changed, he hadn't gone anywhere.

Clark sighed long and hard before giving himself a swift mental kick. He had leads on possible Intergang hideouts to follow up on; there wasn't time to stand around and mope. Chloe would expect better of him and even a world away, Clark didn't want to disappoint her.

_Author's note: Chapter 20 should be up in just a day or so! It's already written!_


	20. Timing

_Author's note: It's a little on the short side, but at least I just posted the previous longer chapter yesterday. _

Martha pulled Chloe aside, aghast at her possible slip. "What is he saying? From what Lois told me, he is the one making it possible to bring Clark home. Is that wrong?"

"Financially that is correct, but…"

Bruce stopped pretending not to eavesdrop and interrupted. "Excuse me, my contributions might have been only financial, but just how far would you have gotten without me?"

Chloe sighed in a dramatic, longsuffering manner. "No one is denying we needed cash, but I guarantee you, without your sudden appearance I would have still found a way."

Exasperated over this old argument, Bruce felt his temper rise. He might have bought into their project as an excuse, but he was not a man who enjoyed being pushed aside or left in the dark. "A way for what? I've no more patience. I won't be left out of the loop. What does a dip in the Sci Fi crazy pool have to do with a sudden mythological farmboy?"

Eyes flashing, she poked him in the chest. "You're supposed to be good at unraveling mysteries, figure it out yourself."

"I wouldn't have to if you'd supply a little common courtesy and not cut me out."

"Oh," she said folding her arms and tiled her head back to look at him, "you mean the way you went behind my back and opened unlimited -UNLIMITED! - credit for Milton and Victor. I hope you are comfortable with your investment, I doubt it stayed at ten thousand dollars, but I doubt you expected it would. Did you think you could buy their loyalty?"

Her arrogance stung his pride. "How do you know it didn't work?"

Chloe tossed her hands up in the air and leaned into his face. "Because you still don't know what the hell is going on!"

"Chloe!" Martha gasped.

Chloe turned away, shimmering with fury. All week long, she'd been terrified her intimidation tactics would no longer work with Victor and Milton and they would spill the details to the man with the pocket book. She strongly suspected that if Bruce knew the entire scope of their plan without tangible proof, he would shut it down. Why would he think it anything but crazy? Her heart squeezed in fear, everything she'd done for the past week had been to bring Clark back to her. With less that twenty-four hours until she and Lois left, she just had to keep it together a little longer.

Everything would be easier if she could just cut Bruce out of the picture, but based on a tip from her friend in the Metropolis University's administration building, she was going to have to rely on Wayne's help if she and Clark hoped to get back.

Bruce opened his mouth to yell back, an instinctive response for him around Ms. Sullivan, when suddenly he took in his surroundings. The Daily Planet basement was virtually empty, but Bruce Wayne did not engage in shouting matches with tiny blond women in or out of the public eye. He'd be lucky if no one wrote this up in the Inquisitor.

The women Senator Kent identified as Lois took advantage of the silence to jump in, "Round one, Chloe Sullivan," she said making an invisible tally in the air.

"Par for the course," he grumbled.

"Ah, cheer up Mr. Wayne." Lois patted him on the hand. "She was going to fill you in after tonight's demonstration."

He swiveled his head back to Ms. Sullivan. She was smiling wryly now, seemingly aware of the absurdity of her wrath. "Tonight," he said slowly, "at the meeting _I_ arranged, you felt you'd finally let me in on the joke."

Some of her amusement faded. "No, I most likely was going to tell you tonight at the meeting _I_ arranged and Milt and Victor informed _you _of and there is no joke here. Their AU-ray works just as advertised. I thought it best to wait until you had a bit of proof before I told you about the unintentional demonstration I received last week."

"The ray works above a subatomic particle level? They are already sending and retrieving objects visible to the eye through their supposed curtain?"

"Yes."

He stared at her face, trying to read her thoughts, her motivations. "Why?" He asked

"You'll have to get the hows and whys from Davinhoe and Hamlish. You are welcome to those secrets, that's the bargain we made."

"No, I don't mean why does it work, I mean why didn't you tell me this at the beginning?"

Chloe gave him a mostly honest answer. "You kind of jumped past a few stages at the beginning. I blinked and you were vying for control and it has taken a while for me to be satisfied with your background check. As it is, I'm still going on a lot of faith. You have secrets and your entitled to these, but I couldn't take the risk until either I was completely satisfied you could be trusted or until our need for your help forced the risk."

"And now, which is it? Trust or need?"

"A combination."

"Damn," he whispered as his mind slid the final piece into place. "Your missing shadow, Senator Kent's son - he was your unintended demonstration, wasn't he?"

A wave of visible pain passed over her features. "Yes." She admitted emotionally. In one word, she conveyed fear, hope, and longing. In one second, her eyes laid bare her soul and she did not own it.

"Damn," Bruce softly swore again. He was too late. He stumbled onto the intrepid Chloe Sullivan too late; she was already in love with the missing Clark Kent.

_Author's note: Next chapter – Chloe and Lois switch universes!!_


	21. Delivered

Blinding light flared. Her senses were dimmed and muffled, like being underwater, and then she staggered forward and fell to her knees. Chloe blinked her eyes but saw nothing but unrelenting darkness. Had the AU-ray failed? Was she trapped somewhere between worlds where light never shone?

"Oww!"

Maybe not. "Lois? Is that you?"

"Chloe? Thank God and, drat," Chloe heard the tinkling of breaking glass and something heavier falling, "watch out I think I broke something. Why can't I see anything?"

Chloe fumbled with the satchel slung over her neck and felt around inside, ignoring her pocket knife and palm-sized stun gun in favor of a flashlight. Its bold white beam sliced the oppressive blackness and sparkled on the shattered glass a few feet from her. Chloe got to her feet and turned the light toward the latest crashing sound.

"Give me a hand. Umph. I never picture my triumphant return home starting off, eh, perched on a pile of," she stared at her filthy palm, "filthy old boxes." Chloe set the light on a shelf and offered a steadying hand to Lois as she squirmed and wiggled off the stack. Lois brushed the thick coat of dust off her hands and looked around. "We made it," she announced with satisfaction. She twirled around and shouted this time, "We made it!" Her joy was overflowing.

Chloe waved the flashlight around the room. "You're sure about that?" She asked skeptically.

"Yes, Clark told us he arrived in the basement of Met U, the only difference between the lab and this room being stacks of boxes. Look over there!" She pointed to footprints outlined on the dusty floor.

"Clark's?" Chloe wondered.

"Yes, they have to be. Come on," she said taking Chloe by the hand and tugging her to the exit, "time to find my better half." They pushed past the outer door and turned down the hallway. The flashlight was better than nothing, but the narrow beam only emphasized the deep shadows. The eerie atmosphere flashed Chloe back to her first trek down the hallway; it had been deliciously creepy, providing her the excuse to cling to Clark.

During the past week, working with Victor and Milton on the AU-ray had required multiple trips back and forth through the corridors, which effectively nullified most of their mysteries, but now in the oppressive gloom, Chloe felt the skin on the back of her neck crawl. "This place gives me the heebie-jeebies; let's hurry, but watch the steps, they are starting to crumble."

After they came to the first landing, a weak grey light filtered around the corner and with the added visibility, they increased their pace. Lois galloping up the stairs lost in her giddy excitement of being back and Chloe flying up the flights, feeling as if the boogeyman was close on her heels. She had that tingly sensation between her shoulder blades, as if someone was watching.

Once topside and at the rear of the library, she paused to catch her breath and tried to slow her rapidly beating heart. The library was empty, as expected in the dawn hours of a Saturday morning, but still Chloe scanned the area looking and listening for something out of place. She heard several light taps coming from behind her. She pivoted on her heels, aimed her light at the counter to the side, and spotlighted Lois using the telephone.

At Chloe's questioning glance, she paused and explained, "I'm trying the house. Hmm, the machine is picking up. I'll call his cell."

Chloe tried to relax. This was good news; the answering machine message was confirmation of success. Maybe this feeling of dread was left over anxiety stemming from their departure. After all, they may have managed to switch worlds, but their exodus wasn't without tribulation. In fact, she might have burned her bridges and spoiled chances at a return trip, but she was counting on ego and a highly developed sense of honor to keep that from happening.

In the moment, right after Bruce realized retrieving Clark was her utmost goal, she thought he might just walk away, but Martha had reached out and begged, "Will you help me bring my son home?" He hadn't flinched when her hand rested on his sleeve; but Chloe thought it a close thing. His disbelief of the whole situation was plainly written on his face.

He'd said nothing for a full minute. In that time, he studied each of their faces before finally pointing to Lois and demanding to know, "Where does she fit into this?" Chloe answered his question and went on feeding him answers, carefully skirting her own eventual role in bring back Clark, until he was momentarily satisfied-even if uncertain of their collective sanity. They, with Martha and Lois in tow, then went immediately to Davinhoe and Hamlish's flat for a physical demonstration.

The demo proceeded smoothly; first utilizing inanimate objects and then using live mice in a cage. After the mice returned unharmed, he prowled the area, searching for trapdoors or any other smoke and mirror type tricks. Finding nothing, he demanded a repeat demonstration and then peppered Victor and Milton with technical questions.

By the end of the evening, the only topics he wasn't well versed in were those that directly related to why Chloe would need to go and retrieve Clark. She'd been adamant that Bruce not learn of her imminent travel plans. Call it gut instinct, but she knew he'd try to stop her. Maybe he'd insist on going in her place, but she couldn't let that happen.

While someone from this world had to go and be used to recalibrate the watch-like resonator recorder that currently housed Lois's universal signature, Clark's secret narrowed down the viable candidates to just herself or Martha.

Lois had told her about Clark's stint as the _Super Friend_. It was almost a week since he used his abilities in front of multiple witnesses (and in the flimsies of disguises), got caught on camera for the evening news and made the front page of the Daily Planet. Someone with enough ingenuity and luck might have already exposed him in that world. If he hadn't been exposed yet, it would be some kind of miracle, and she wouldn't risk letting anyone from this world stumble onto that kind of information.

Maybe, just maybe, someday Clark might feel compelled to let "The Batman" in on his secret life as he had Oliver, but Chloe would not take away his choice. After all, it was possible that her instincts were off and Bruce Wayne was an ordinary, run of the mill, multi-billionaire without a secret crime fighting agenda.

Chloe didn't think twice about her plans, she knew she had to be the one to go find Clark. It was merely a bonus that she desperately wanted to go.

Before she and Lois left to get some sleep in anticipation of their early morning wake up call, Chloe filled Bruce in on how she needed his help,

"You understand that Lois will be leaving from the Met U basement lab?" Chloe checked.

Bruce nodded, "Due to the power source requirements."

"Right. Milt and Victor are on the way to do the needed set up and all will be ready for her departure tomorrow at 5 AM. Then she has to find Clark and give him the tagging device. We don't know precisely how long that will take, but she'll certainly need more than a few minutes."

He cocked his head, "I don't follow you. Why wouldn't she have more time before we would search and retrieve Clark?"

"Because according to my source down at the admin building, a crew from the electric company will be coming around at seven am to track down the origin of the recently noticed energy spikes centering around the old campus library. That leaves only two hours to disassemble and transport the AU-Ray out of there."

"Am I to understand that not only has the University been kept in the dark over the true nature of the project, but that…"

Chloe smiled cheerfully and interrupted, "That the lab is completely unauthorized and unknown to Met U? Yep, and I'm counting on you to secure another location where the ray can set up shop and bring Clark back."

"You're not asking for much," he sarcastically muttered, "not too many places are on a separate power grid, but," he paused and stroked his chin thinking, "perhaps if it's just a matter of having access to the equivalent power." He inclined his head and held out his hand. "I believe I have a place in mind that will work." Chloe shook his hand, hoping her trust in him was not misplaced. She essentially just gave him control over whether she and Clark ever returned home.

By four-thirty the next morning, she and Lois were both a ball of nerves. Neither slept much the night before. Lois was understandably anxious to be with her husband again, while the origin of Chloe's anxiety was equally divided between allowing a super-charged laser shoot her and fearing Bruce would try to prevent such a fate.

The way he stared when he thought she wasn't looking didn't help calm her nerves either. He'd also been eyeing her satchel suspiciously. That is, when he didn't have his nose buried in a collection of Milton's handwritten notes on the schematics to the AU-Ray.

Mrs. Kent insisted on being there to send them off. She greeted then both warmly but in Chloe's opinion, had trouble confining her public sendoff to Lois. Chloe just hoped Bruce was too intent on his reading to have noticed the overlong hug she had received. Since then, Lois had done a good job distracting Martha with outrageous stories about her and Clark's multiple attempts to get married. Something about frogs?

Victor and Milton bustled about rechecking cable connections and auditing each other's calculations. With both Lois and Chloe traveling, the exponential use of power had more than doubled and they had to make especially certain the curtain between the universes would remain stable. As it was, the calculations revealed they had only one chance to build up their needed power and a limited window in which to release the two needed bursts that would each send Lois and Chloe on their way.

Beyond the tight schedule, the AU-Ray had a 40 percent chance of shorting out after the first shot and the Met U campus had an 80 percent chance of experiencing rolling black outs after the second. Hopefully, most wouldn't be awake to notice. At the very least, the power grid wouldn't (without repairs) maintain enough energy to power up the AU-Ray again even if it didn't short circuit in the first place.

Chloe fidgeted with the tag Milton had discretely slipped to her when she and Lois first walked in that morning. The tag was her link to home. As long as she kept it on her person, then it would maintain and stabilize her frequency resonance. Milt theorized it might work up to a month, but Chloe had no plans to test his guess.

On her shoulder, she readjusted the strap to her leather bag of potential useful things. She'd chosen just some basics and left all hopes for a change of clothes with Lois's promise of free reign in her closet. Chloe worried she was forgetting something and then laughed softly to herself. How _does_ one pack for trips to alternate universes?

Short of that how-to guide, she filled the satchel as if she was going to the seedier side of Metropolis and tossed in a can of mace (not merely pepper spray), her compact stun gun, a multi-function pocketknife, a flashlight, and a lighter among other small items. She was reexamining the content when she felt Bruce's stare again. He was frowning now. Not a good sign.

"Tell me Milton," he casually requested while Hamlish crawled around the base of the AU-Ray. "I'm curious, how long does it take for a traveler's resonance signature to realign to the new universe?"

Chloe tensed and sent a warning glare in Milt's direction, but he was too caught up in his last minute prep to glance her way.

"Surprisingly, as little as three days to adjust too far out of synch with the home world to be of use, but maybe up to a month to fully resonate at the new frequency."

"That's very interesting," he said, starting to prowl the room, "because according to this," he held a sheet of loose leaf paper filled with Milton's dark scrawl, "the resonator recorder will have to be retuned to this universe's frequency if it is to be of any use to Kent. However, you are saying Lois hasn't been here long enough. Someone else would have to go." He scanned the people in the lab. "So who's making the trip?"

Milton scowled and went back to his work; they had a looming deadline and no time for ridiculous drama. Victor opened and closed his mouth like a fish and then sent Chloe an unsubtle look of panic.

Bruce crossed his arms and nodded. "As I thought, the indomitable Ms. Sullivan." He shook his head and strolled to where Chloe stood stiffly, clutching her satchel in front of her like a shield. "Am I the only one who thinks this is a bad idea? Davinhoe, Hamlish, why aren't either of you going? Why are you sending a friend of your first victim to fix your error?" Bruce raised an eyebrow at the stammering Victor. Chloe jumped in.

"I choose to go, Bruce. I know there are risks, but they're worth it."

"I don't think you're the right candidate."

"Who else is going to go? We need both Victor and Milton in case this contraption blows up again and I'm the only one here how knows Clark, unless you think sending his _mother_ is a better idea," she added sarcastically.

Milton leaped up and went to the controls of the AU-Ray. "You better make your minds up quickly because in less than four minutes we will have activation. You, Lane, you're up first."

"Where do I stand?" She asked after giving Martha's hand a final squeeze.

Victor guided her to a spot on the floor marked by masking tape. "You stand here and Chl..Chloe...," he stammered to a stop, intimidated by the glare Bruce delivered. "Whoever else goes must stand a few feet to the right."

Chloe started walking to the indicated location when Bruce clamped a hand on her shoulder bringing her to a halt. "You have to let me go, Clark needs me," She pleaded.

"He doesn't need you, anybody will do. You don't have to do this." He saw desperation lurking in her eyes. "Do you think I can't tell how terrified you are? You feel guilty about exposing your friend to this crazy situation and have taken it upon yourself to play the hero, despite the fact you're practically shaking. I'll go. I'll bring back Clark Kent."

She tried to shrug out of his hold without luck. Chloe blew an errant strand of hair out of her eyes. Petulantly, she told him, "I suppose you have the lock on playing the hero." Then suddenly her shoulders slumped and she sighed raggedly. She stopped fighting him and tears welled in her eyes, "I've been so scared." She looked up at him and still clutching her bag to her chest asked, "Will you really take my place and go for me?"

Martha gasped. "Chloe, no."

Milton flicked a series of switches and called out. "We are powered up, ten seconds until the first power transfer."

Lois stood on her mark and looked at Chloe in horrified confusion. Chloe tried to go to her, but Bruce would not release her arm. She spared a quick look at Bruce and then implored Lois to, "Trust me, it will be better this way."

Uncharacteristically speechless, Lois nodded as Victor called out the countdown. "Nine…eight… seven… six… five… four," Lois squeezed her eyes shut, "three… two… one."

Milton triggered the AU-Ray and a beam of intense orange light streamed out. Chloe saw Lois enveloped in a shimmery, golden haze. The lights flickered and the haze seemed to rush in on itself, like cyclone or a whirlpool getting smaller and swirling exponentially faster until it winked away, leaving nothing behind.

Chloe heard Martha cry out while Bruce nodded approvingly. Chloe twisted trying to see the machine. "Did the ray survive? Are we set for the second transfer?" She demanded of her semi-scientists.

Milton grunted in affirmative and began the quick prep for the second transfer. "We are a go in one minute." He looked up, "Who's going?"

Bruce shuffled Chloe to the side and strode forward, "I am."

Milton frowned and then said, "Fine, stand over there."

Chloe rushed to stop him. "Wait!" She called and un-slung her satchel from her shoulder. "You should take this; it has a few things that might come in handy." She opened it and fished a few items out to show him, "like this flashlight, or this pocketknife."

Bruce smiled, charmed at her naïveté, "Thanks, but I have a few items of my own that should serve just fine."

"Thirty seconds!" Called out Milton. Bruce turned away from Chloe again.

"Let me at least give you a proper goodbye!" She closed the gap between them, slid her hands up his chest and tilted her head back. Her touch had him tingling.

He could not resist cupping the back of her head and lowering his mouth to hers. His mind had barely registered the softness of her lips when a million tiny pins stabbed him all over his body. He started falling forward and Chloe supported his weight. "I'm sorry," she said calmly as she continued to hold her stun gun to his upper abdomen. Seconds went by and she finally removed its contact as he slid uncontrollably to the floor.

He lay awake, but without command of his body. His eyes shone with fury over her deception. She knelt before him and smoothed back the fallen hair from his brow. "I am sorry, but you wouldn't listen to me. I'm still counting on you to get us back."

"Hurry, we have five seconds before it's too late."

Chloe scrambled up as Victor called out the final numbers, "Four… three… two… one."

The next thing she remembered was a flash of light and finding herself in the pitch-black storage room with Lois. No wonder her nerves were working overtime.

Lois rejoined Chloe. "Well, he didn't answer his cell phone and he's not at the Planet, either. Part of me just wants to scream for help, but he's probably in the middle of something super important if you catch my drift."

Chloe smiled at Lois's pun. "So, what now?"

Lois cocked her head in surprise, too used to Chloe's take-charge attitude to accept easily her deference.

Chloe laughed and held up her hands, "I swear, I'm not a control freak usually and this is your turf, so what do you think? How hard would it be to walk to your house?"

Lois slipped her hand around Chloe's elbow and linked their arms companionably. "In these heels, pretty hard, but since I've already have a cab ordered and headed this way, I think life is looking good."

They started walking toward the exit. Outside, the sun already had begun peeking up at the world, but the campus was peaceful and still. They left the old library building and headed to wait for the cab by the main gate.

Lulled by the familiarity of the Met U campus, the different skyline and a bay reaching out into a large body of water made pink and orange from the rising sun, came to Chloe as more of a shock than she'd expected. She couldn't help stopping and staring.

"Wow. I'm really not in Kansas anymore." She smirked and blushed. "I can't believe I actually said that, but I now have new sympathy for Dorothy." She squeezed Lois's hand, "and for you. I don't think I understood how hard the last week must have been for you."

Lois smiled teary eyed, "Hey, I got lucky; I knew I was coming home this time. I knew you'd get me here."

Chloe scrunched up her brow and chewed on her lip. "How could you know, when half the time I didn't know myself?"

"Clark had complete faith in you and that was enough for me." Chloe blushed and looked away. Lois relinked their arms and started walking again.

"Beyond that," Lois continued, "I'd have had to be an idiot not to put my trust in you. You don't give yourself enough credit; all you accomplished during the last week amazes me. Somehow, while managing Hamlish and Davinhoe, and scrounging up a backer with deep pockets, you not only maintained your position at the Planet, but also worked ahead and submitted, how many articles on speculation? Ten?"

Chloe grimaced, "I'm hoping those articles and my call this morning about a family emergency will keep them from plopping a new body at my desk. If I'm gone too long, nothing will."

"They'd be fools if they let a natural like you get away," Lois insisted fiercely.

Chloe laughed, feeling her normally optimistic nature return. "True and besides, working in the basement, they might not even notice I'm gone." She laughed again, "I wonder if they will notice when Lori Kent doesn't show up, I know those interns you terrorized will never forget you, even if they never did know your real name."

"Yeah," a brutal voice from behind them snickered. "Lois Lane is unforgettable." As they spun around, Chloe pulled the can of mace out of her bag and aimed at the eyes of their attacker. Unfortunately, he was not alone. Someone knocked the bottle out of her hand and flattened a sickeningly sweet smelling cloth over her face. She fought not to inhale anymore of the chloroform, but already started to feel its effects.

As Chloe's world faltered, she registered Lois in a similar circumstance. She felt her body sliding as if boneless to the ground, but she hovered just beyond consciousness and heard a trio of voices.

"Aghh! Damn it, it burns!"

"You're just lucky the boss sent us along with you, or you'd be explaining how a couple lightweight chicks took you down."

"Yeah, you're lucky," echoed the third thug. "We're going to be the heroes of Intergang!"

"Don't give me that crap. Just get them into the car. Call the boss and let 'em know we've nabbed Lane." Still wiping and pawing at his face in agony, he snarled and added, "And see what he wants done with the extra chick. She's the miserable bitch who damned near blinded me. She's gonna get what's comin' to her if I can help it."

Chloe flinched as his harsh promise.

"Damn it, she's not under yet!" A rough hand clamped the cloth over her face again. The world went silent.


	22. Happy Landings

Chloe surfaced from her chemical induced stupor to a pounding head and a vague buzzing sound that took a moment of intense concentration to identify as voices. The buzzing was cut short by a banging clatter that reverberated through her skull. Other pains and discomforts took their turn announcing their presence. Her side felt bruised. Her jaw ached from a tightly strung gag between her teeth and t he faintly salty material sucked all moisture from her mouth making her tongue feel huge.

A wave of nausea rolled up from her stomach. Fighting the urge to vomit, she concentrated on breathing smoothly and as deeply as possible through her nostrils. With the gag firmly in place, no doubt she'd choke to death. Fortunately, her stomach was empty except for the ubiquitous first cup of coffee and she was able to get it under control.

After a few minutes, the worst of the hammering pain in her head receded and she could think clearly. She became aware of something binding her hands together, but at least they were tied in the front. Her feet were not bound. A slight breeze and warm sunlight caressed the cheek facing up. The one facing down rested not on carpet or tile, but a stony surface that smelled strongly of tar. Was she in a parking ramp?

Keeping in mind how she'd been sent spiraling into a black void the last time they saw her twitch, she cautiously dared to lift her eyelids by a fraction. She couldn't see very far in front of her. She was lying on her side and facing a brick wall of maybe four feet in height. She could also see a swath of blue sky and the top of a few buildings. So not a parking ramp, but outside on a roof. She didn't see any sign of Lois, but found her leather satchel chucked conveniently nearby. Her fingers could practically curl around the shoulder strap already.

Before pulling it nearer, she intently listened for those earlier murmurings. She heard nothing. Except for the faint honking from the traffic down below there was silence.

She tugged the bag closer until she could reach inside inside. Ignoring the flashy red pocketknife, (she did not need a corkscrew, thank you); she fumbled around for the easily overlooked side panel. Inside the pocket, her searching fingers gratefully closed around a narrow metal object.

She pulled it free from the confines of the satchel and depressed a small button on the corner. A wickedly sharp four-inch blade clicked into place. Now if she could just angle it back on the cords binding her hands.

The switchblade's edge was sharp, but Chloe couldn't hold it against the ropes with any kind of significant force. All she could manage was a light sawing motion.

Time.

She needed time, but the scraping sound of a metal door forced over concrete warned that time was running out. Her kidnappers were returning. Chloe partially closed the blade and concealed it in her palm. She froze in place, doing her best imitation of girl in la la land.

Footsteps crunched on the loose stones on the rooftop. "See! I told you, still completely out. But I don't get why we have to wait until she wakes up. Wouldn't it just be easier to dump her over the edge when she's knocked out?"

A frisson of fear ran up Chloe's spine.

"Look at my face! There's no way she's getting off that easy. She's gonna get what's coming to her and know it." He laughed and Chloe had a brief vision of the puppies this goliath probably tortured in his youth.

"Your face? Yeah right. A little mace and you freak. You're the one who scratched it straight to hell, pretty boy." Chloe heard a scuffling sound, followed by a gasp.

"Don't call me that."

"No, of course not Shark," his voice was thin and wispy, as if he could barely choke out an answer. "My mistake, it won't happen again. Come on, put me down." There was a thud, and then he asked, "So whatcha gonna do to her? The Boss said to make it look like just another lazy college dope who couldn't handle life and took a dive off the nearest crumbling tower."

The gravely voice took over, "He said make it look like suicide. Sometimes suicides like to be real thorough. This one's gonna cut her wrists before her short walk to nowhere.

Chloe's heart stuttered and sped up. She had to get free fast. Moving only her fingertips and hoping her body hid her motion, she resumed the sawing of her bonds. Chloe didn't have a plan past getting her hands free, but first things first. She kept working while they kept talking.

"Then we collect the reward right? Blue set it up when he delivered Lane, right? But how do we know that he's not gonna split with our cuts?"

"Cause I ain't an idiot. No reward 'til we're done with this one. We just gotta show up at Area 51 before the finale."

"But Shark, all this waiting around is stupid. I say we just dump her now."

"Are you callin' me stupid?" He growled.

"No, no," he said, clearly back peddling, "just that how do we know she's even gonna wake up? She should be awake by now, but she got double dosed so maybe she ain't never gonna wake up!"

"What about my face? Somebody's gonna pay. You volunteering? You're the one who dragged me into this mess."

"Now, now, calm down. I'm just saying we give her another ten minutes, then just cut, and run. In the meantime, we should get off the roof. Somebody on those buildings could see us."

"Fine."

They trudged back across the rooftop. Chloe heard them jerk the metal door, a pause while they filed through, and then a heavy bang as they let it shut behind them. Chloe doubled her efforts to cut through the cord for her wrists. She felt something give in the bindings and used the slight shift of tightness to add pressure to each stroke.

Metal scraped on concrete. Less than a minute had passed; they couldn't be back so soon! Had they changed their minds and decided to toss her right now? Should she freeze or keep working to free herself? The cords were still too tight to escape. She concentrated on breathing deeply and evenly as she imagined the passed out would.

Only one set of footsteps fell on the roof this time, but they were headed straight to her. Playing possum was her only choice.

She smelled him (garlic and sweat) at the same moment she heard his heavy breathing. This was the same guy she maced. He walked between her and the sun and bent low grabbing her bag. He riffled around for a moment and then dropped it back to the ground. He must have found what he was looking for. He started muttering to himself.

"Yeah, this baby will work. I'll just take you down and sharpen you up real good."

His shadow stayed over her, hovering. Was he staring at her? Watching? Examining? Could he tell she was awake? Chloe felt the toe of his boot nudge at her middle. He swore under his breath at her stillness. "Maybe you are going to get off easy, but you'll still gonna be dead."

The sun returned, warm on her cheek, and the overwhelming aroma of unwashed bodies faded. A moment later, she heard the door scrape open and bang shut.

Chloe let out the ragged breath she'd been holding and tried not to shake too much. If she had any luck left, they might be gone for ten minutes. Somehow she doubted their patience would last that long.

As she struggled to sit upright, she felt her head start to swim. Brown dots darkened the center of her vision. Blood roared in her head. No, no! Not now! She couldn't pass out now. There wasn't time.

Breathing slowly she managed to ward off a fainting spell and used the new upright angle to make it a bit easier to get at the cord. Relentlessly she sawed back and forth. Her haste made her clumsy and she nicked her fingers and hands several times. After that, the knife kept slipping. The dripping blood made the blade hard to hold.

Agonizingly long minutes passed before she finally sliced through the nylon rope wrapped around her wrists. She pulled and twisted her hands, the blood coating them now working to her advantage, and slipped free. The gag was the first thing to go and she moaned softly as the dry abraded flesh inside her mouth was reintroduced to moisture.

Unsteadily, she got to her feet, leaning heavily on the wall near the edge of the roof. A quick scan of the rooftop confirmed Lois wasn't there and revealed a distinct lack of hiding spots. Except for the box like structure housing the access door, the roof was flat and empty. No chance to leap to a nearby building as they did in the movies either, they were too high above the neighboring structures. Her choices were between trying her luck with who lurked behind door # 1 and practicing her Spiderman routine down the rusty remains of a fire escape.

She headed toward the fire escape. Her luck hadn't been running too high lately and she imagined simply the sound of that door being wedged open would alert her captors.

Peering down at the fire escape, she became certain that the owner wasn't too concerned about meeting (or even acknowledging) safety codes. The metal skeleton was turning red from exposure and one of the rungs was broken off the first section. She leaned over the edge and looked down. The street must have been at least fifteen floors down. Good thing heights didn't bother her.

Mustering up courage, she swung her leg over the ledge and put her weight on the top rung. It groaned, creaked and somewhere down below, it clanged. "Ok, that's not a good sound." Chloe said aloud. The groaning of metal didn't stop. She heard guide wires breaking and whipping back through the air. Suddenly the whole ladder pulled free from the brick façade of the building. "Ok, this is very bad."

XXXX XXXXX XXXXX

Clark handed Kent a freshly brewed cup of Oolong tea. Kent took the teacup automatically and thanked him absently. The oil fires in China kept Superman busy well into the midmorning. Clark himself had been out all night too. It seemed only fair that while Superman was out of the country, he keep an eye on Metropolis.

Besides, after visiting the campus last night, he hadn't felt much like sleeping, so he checked out several possible locations that could act as base for the new head of Intergang. He also dropped a few would be muggers off at police headquarters; otherwise, the night was quiet. He returned to the Kent's townhome about an hour before dawn. Not long after he fell asleep, he woke from a nightmare about Chloe fighting off an attacker.

Instead of feeling normal concern, he'd been ridiculously pleased just to have her nearby. Then he remembered how impossible that was. He managed to fall back asleep, but slept fitfully. Even now he felt tense and on edge, restless and desperate.

Kent didn't look much better than he felt.

Lacking enthusiasm, Clark recounted the results of his visits to past Intergang safe houses and other properties with suspected ties.

"The one by the wharf is completely flooded, so we can cross that off the list. The Laundromat we suspected as being used as a front was, but only by a small time bookie and he unexpectedly decided to close shop."

Kent looked up from his tea. "Attack of conscious?"

Clark smirked, "Nah, fear of heights."

Kent shook his head, more amused than he let on. "Go on," he encouraged.

"The night club you mentioned was packed all night long. It's a dusk to dawn operation. Very public and too crowded to zip in unnoticed. However, I thought I'd do some further recon during the day and see if there's much activity in the back rooms."

Kent took another sip. "Sounds good, what about the rest?"

Clark rattled off a dozen or so other locations including an abandoned fallout shelter (lead shielded) and a defunct missile silo. "Both were empty, but kept up: swept mostly clean, the water and power working. Someone could shift headquarters pretty easily and just move right in."

"Or maybe they've already been there and moved out."

Clark nodded. "I really couldn't tell."

"Ok, I'll get Jimmy to cross reference the corporations that own the properties we can't knock off the list with names and alias's of past known Intergang associates. Maybe we'll come up lucky."

They lapsed into silence, a common occurrence lately unless they were talking business, both of the Daily Planet and hero variety. Both knew the other was trying to avoid the unspeakable question the both were thinking. "What if the dimensional switch was permanent?" Neither wanted to speak the words aloud. It was as if they voiced their fears, they would lend it power and make it unchangeable reality.

They sipped their tea.

Kent noticed for the first time the cup he was holding. "I don't think we've ever used these before." He turned it around to examine the pattern.

"Sorry. I probably shouldn't have taken them out the china cabinet."

Mildly curious, "Why did you?" The kitchen shelves were filled with a variety of choices.

"They remind me of home." Clark shrugged and admitted, "Chloe has these cups too. Just something her mom picked up." He smiled and added, "Not that she uses them. She's more of a coffee mug type. Caffeine is the drug of her choice."

"Lois refers to coffee as the most important tool of a reporter. More important than pen or paper, and half the time before even the mind, because you have to be awake to write."

"It's funny how something like a teacup can be exactly the same when everything else…" Clark jumped up mid sentence, letting the teacup crash to the floor. It shattered instantly, but he didn't notice. He whipped his head to the west and said, "Chloe!" before zipping away.

Kent transformed into Superman while trying to tune into what ever Clark had heard, but he picked up nothing but the usually city chatter. He tailed his alter ego.

XXXX XXXX XXXX

The access door to the roof opened with its customary bang.

"She's gone!"

"Damn it! I told you to tie her up!'

"I did! I don't know how she got loose. What the hell was that crashing sound?"

Shark glided to the edge of the roof and peered over the side. "That rusty death trap of a fire escape is what." He swore vividly.

"She must have tried to use it to escape."

Shark cuffed him on the side of the head. "No shit, but did she go down with it?" They both leaned over the edge trying to identify something in the twisted heap of metal on ground level. Behind them, next to the roof's only exit, Chloe crept out of the shadows. If she could just sneak past unnoticed...

She pulled at the door, but it was wedged shut. Though she applied all her strength, the door opened only by a few inches. Unfortunately, the horrendous sound of metal scraping against concrete got her captors attention instantly.

"Well, so much for stealth," Chloe muttered and tried yanking on the door again. It refused to budge any farther. No wonder the thugs always entered with such a bang. It took the meathead's brute strength to force it open. She glanced over her shoulder; they were almost on her. Abandoning her effort to open the door, she backed away slowly holding up her hands. Maybe she could try reasoning with them.

"Ok, can we just talk about this? Maybe we can come to a solution that doesn't involve me plummeting to my death."

"You've got no where to run. There's only one way this is going to end. We can do it the easy way or the hard way, it's up to you."

Chloe winced at his clichéd threat. The absurdity of crossing universal boundaries only to be captured and killed (if her buddy Shark had any say) before noon struck her as surreal. Was she really going to die anonymously at the hands of a couple low level goons for reasons completely unknown?

She almost laughed. Would knowing why they wanted to kill her make the result any more tolerable? She hadn't risked everything she valued in her life to bring Clark home just to be defeated by a pair of rent-a-henchman. However, unless Lois's Superman was in the neighborhood, chances of her survival were sharply declining.

"Come on, why go through the hassle of killing me? Murder is such a messy business. You don't have any reason to kill me. You don't even know who I am!"

"Who you are is not important."

She continued backing away and they kept slowly advancing. "So just let me go. It's not as if I even have a clue what this is all about. You can let me go. I don't know anything."

"Yeah you do, you know you're not going to see your next birthday."

Funny how even the most hackneyed threats were genuinely threatening when faced with no escape. She was retreating and circling back to where the fire escape used to be. Her leather satchel was still where she flung it during her mad scramble to make it back on the roof before the whole structure gave way. Her personal goon squad had raced back up to the roof before the building even stopped shuddering, which had forced Chloe to leave the bag of goodies behind the first time around.

She scooped up her bag without ever taking her eyes off her stalkers. Why hadn't they jumped her? They could plainly see she was unarmed. Well, not anymore. Now she had her mini-arsenal at hand. Of course with two against one (and really, the big guy could almost be counted twice on his own) all she was doing was stalling.

A siren wailed in the distance. Hope fluttered to life. Maybe the fall of the fire escape finally attracted attention. Maybe she could convince them to leave before the police showed up. Maybe in their rush to save their own hides they would not worry about skinning hers.

She let the electric charge from her mini stun gun crackle in the air; though the palm sized gadget didn't look very intimidating, the popping sound signaled she meant business.

"The police are on their way. You should leave now before it's too late."

"Funny, I was thinking the same thing." Shark lunged forward and clamped his hand like an inescapable manacle around the wrist holding her best deterrent. In that instant, Chloe knew the game was up and she was about to be crowned loser.

"Claaark!!! Claaarrrrk!!" She cried instinctively. Shark twisted her arm back, easily forcing her to drop the stun gun. He delivered a casual backhand to her face to shut her up.

The force of his blow sent her sprawling to the rooftop. Her head rang and her vision began to blur, but she knew she had to keep moving. Half-crawling on her knees, she scooted away as fast as she could while grabbing her switchblade from the front pocket of her jeans, but before she could open it and even attempt to use it, Shark turned the stun gun against her.

Agony.

A million needles piercing her flesh.

Helplessly, Chloe collapsed. The electric volts traveled through her nervous system robbing her of control over her own body and leaving her mentally dazed and powerless to fight.

"Crap, grab and dump her before the cops get here, or worse Superman. You were supposed to keep her quiet. You're the one who always says never let them scream for help."

"Shut up. It doesn't matter anyway. She was too stupid to cry for Superman anyway." Shark grinned as mercilessly as his namesake and scooped her into his arms in a sick parody of a lovers embrace. Chloe wanted to struggle, to scream, to scratch his eyes out, but instead she remained a mass of twitching muscles, limp, terrified, and confused over what was even happening.

In two strides, he reached the edge, lifted her high in the air, said, "Happy landings, bitch," and tossed her over the edge.

XXXXX XXXXXX XXXXXX

He'd heard Chloe. Chloe needed him. Clark was sure down to the marrow of his bones and he'd instinctively raced toward the sound of her voice. Though he knew she had to be somewhere in one of the surrounding buildings he didn't know which one. Desperation clawed in his chest.

Opening his enhanced senses and stretching their limits, he allowed a tidal wave of sounds to crash over him. For an instant, the onslaught threatened to overwhelm his mind. All of Metropolis was crying, laughing, shouting at the same time.

Sirens screamed.

Television's blared.

Radio's pounded.

He struggled to filter out all criteria that were "not Chloe". Gone was the music and entertainment. Silent were the sighs of nature. He rejected every voice that did not match the pitch and timber belonging to Chloe. He blocked any extraneous noise, even down to the low thrumming of the blood rushing through his veins until finally he heard it.

Her heartbeat.

Clark crouched low to the ground and sprung into the air. He gathered her falling body close to his and continued rising slowly. She moaned softly and her eyelids fluttered open.

"I've got you," he told her, half- amazed that it was true.

"I'm here," he reassured, knowing in that moment, there wasn't anywhere else, in any universe, he'd rather be.

"Everything is going to be alright," he promised, realizing for the first time since his unexpected trip, he believed those words too. He brushed his fingertips across her cheek, still unable to completely accept she was real.

She smiled weakly and croaked, "My hero."

"I've got to get you to a hospital."

"No, no." The paralyzing sensation was starting to wear off, along with the equally paralyzing inability to form coherent thoughts. She cleared her throat. "I'll be fine in a minute." She linked her hands behind his neck and rested her head against his chest savoring his heat and his very presence, even if she couldn't yet put what she was feeling into words. Clark tightened his hold on her. He turned his head, burying his face in her hair and inhaled her sweet scent of citrus and something identifiable only as Chloe.

For the first time in more than a week, they felt peace.

_Sorry for the long wait. Blame taxes, a difficult muse, and a never-ending chapter. Next chapter there will be more Chlark—promises!! _


	23. Taking Care

"Everything under control here?"

Chloe lifted her head from its comfortable resting place to see a man in a formfitting blue and red suit crossing his arms and cocking his head quizzically. Her first instinct was to blush over being found in such a lover like embrace, but before she had time to fully process her embarrassment, she noticed two things. One, the man with the slicked back hair and flowing red cape seemed to be hovering in the air and two, so was she.

"Hovering?" She questioned aloud. She looked at Clark. "When did you learn to hover?" Clark gave her a puzzled look until Chloe made a jerking motion pointing down. Clark suddenly tensed. They were approximately twenty feet above a rooftop and it was getting neither further away nor closer to them. They were stopped, suspended in mid-air.

Chloe grinned, "New trick, huh?"

Her smile was laced with pride. Her expression and the mere joy at having her in his arms caused him to grin back. "Very new, just for you."

Chloe's smile faltered, not at Clark's teasing words, but from the intense look that accompanied them. He stared into her eyes as if trying to convey a deeper meaning, but she wasn't sure of the message. Then self-awareness kicked in. As much of a charge as she got being with Clark while he exercised his abilities, they were up in the sky in broad daylight and Clark wasn't wearing any kind of disguise.

Mildly panicking, she ordered him to, "Get us down. Get us down now! Anyone could see you."

Responded to her command, Clark gently lowered them to the rooftop. He wasn't certain how he'd ended up floating among the Metropolis skyline and even less certain of duplicating the effort, but controlling his descent took no more than willing it to happen for it to happen.

When his feet met the solid surface of the roof, Chloe insisted he let her stand on her own, but her knees buckled on her first step so he pulled her close to his side and kept an arm around her waist. His outward reason was to keep her from falling. Inwardly he acknowledged it gave him a reason to keep on touching her.

Superman also came to a rest atop the roof. His landing reminded Chloe of urgent matters. "Lois," she whispered aloud. Exactly how much time had past since Shark turned the stun gun against her, reducing her body and mind to mush, remained a bit murky. She did know that every lost minute let him and his cohort get farther away and those two were their best leads in finding Lois.

Superman's entire body tensed at Lois's name. As he took a step closer, he vibrated with barely bottled emotion, simultaneously displaying both a vulnerable hope and a touch of menace. "Lois? She's back? Where is she? What do you know?"

Chloe shared his anxiety and sympathized too much to be intimidated. "We came back around dawn, but these guys jumped us just outside of Met U, passed Lois off to someone else and hauled me up here for a dramatic swan dive. My kidnappers have maybe a five minute lead."

"Give me a description."

"Two men, one Caucasian and one of maybe Latin, but no accent. Both wearing jeans and dark t-shirts. The taller one had on a waist length, leather jacket." Chloe made a shooing motion. "Go now, I'll keep filling in the details." After a tiny hesitation, Superman whooshed away and Chloe fleshed out her descriptions to Clark knowing Superman would still be able to hear.

"The big guy was built like a cage fighter, answers to Shark. He's six three or four, blond hair and angelic features that hardly compliment his temper. Oh, he has fresh scratches on his face." Clark raised an eyebrow. Chloe answered his unspoken question. "Nope, not from me. When he first attacked, I maced him in the eyes and he didn't like that too much. The stuff worked like a charm. He was too busy clawing at his burning eyes to bother with us; unfortunately, he wasn't alone. His buddies used chloroform or something to knock us out."

"When I woke up, I was alone with Shark and the one of the other guys who grabbed us. He was shorter, maybe five seven or eight, had dark hair, either olive skin or a recent tan, and a wiry frame," she shook her head. "I didn't get his name, but the third guy, the one who took Lois, was called Blue." She sighed. "I never really saw him at all; however I remember he was real chipper about nabbing Lane and getting to be a hero to something called Intergang."

"Intergang? Should have known." He filled her in on what he and Kent had been doing.

Superman returned amidst a gust of wind. He didn't look happy.

"There is no sign of them in the area. Do you have any idea what kind of vehicle they drove?"

Chloe shook her head, "No, I didn't come to until I was up on the roof. For all I know they took the subway."

"I need you to tell me every detail. Tell me exactly what happened."

While Chloe tried to sort out where to begin, Clark jumped in to relate what he knew.

Superman considered this. "They threw you off the roof; it was no accident, so they definitely were trying to kill you.

"Yeah, I picked up on that," Chloe joked, feeling less cocky than she sounded.

Clark winced and then grimly asked, "Do you think they might have had the same plan for Lois?" Superman's face clouded.

Shaking her head vehemently, Chloe said, "No, no, this wasn't any random kidnapping. Lois was the goal. She was the precious cargo and I was just the excess baggage." Chloe tried to laugh. "I'm only alive because Shark wanted to terrorize me awhile before he killed me." She shuddered as the fears she'd not had time for earlier, washed over her.

Clark felt her body start to shake and didn't wait to wrap her in a hug. Safely cocooned in his arms, her defenses fell fully and tears burst free.

"It's just that this time was really close, I thought this was it," she explained to him in broken gasps, "and I was afraid I'd never get to see you again." Fresh tears spilled over her lashes.

"I'm here and I'm not going anywhere without you," Clark promised. Chloe took a deep shuddering breath.

"I'm sorry I'm acting like an idiot," she wept into his shoulder.

"Shh, shh, you're not. Everything's gong to be ok." He smoothed his hand over her back as she clung to him.

Chloe sniffed, trying to get her emotions back under control. She lifted her head from Clarks shoulder and looked at Lois's husband. "I was supposed to get Lois home safely. I'm so sorry."

He shook his head. "This is not your fault."

Chloe wiped the tears that still clung to her cheeks with the back of her hand, leaving behind smudges of half-dried blood.

"Chloe, your hands!"

Chloe stared blankly at her hands. Acknowledging their battered condition seemed to amplify the burning stings and scrapes. "It's nothing; I nicked them while cutting the ropes." She gestured toward the corner of the roof where she'd been held. Clark saw a loosely coiled cord darkened in spots from her blood soaking into the fibers. He also spotted a number of little splatters on the ground. His stomach twisted.

Clark turned back to Chloe and looked for other overlooked injuries. He clenched his jaw when he saw that the side of her face, from her jaw to her cheekbone was red and already starting to bruise. The mottled color was in stark contrast to her unnaturally pale skin. A fierce energy burned in the pit of his stomach. Someone hit Chloe. He wanted to find Lois and Chloe's assailants and make them pay. But, he wanted Chloe somewhere safe first.

Without warning, he scooped Chloe back up into his arms. He ignored her startled "Hey!"

Over his shoulder, he told Superman, "I'm taking her back to the townhouse. She's in no condition to stand here answering questions."

"I'm fine Clark," Chloe protested. At his glare, she rolled her eyes and amended, "Well, I will be, but right now I need to…" Clark ignored her and sped away. Moments later, they arrived in front of a lovely brownstone building.

"Clark this isn't necessary. I'm fine. Lois is out there and I don't want to waste time. We have to find her." Clark ignored her and strode forward up the front steps, through a couple sets of double doors and into the Kent's living room. Still not saying a word, he climbed a set of stairs off the kitchen and went into the main bathroom.

Chloe automatically glanced at their reflection in the mirror and blanched. While Clark looked his usual delectable self, she looked awful. Dried blood smeared across one cheek, with the beginning of a purple mess forming on the other. Her hair managed to be somehow both matted down and sticking up in all directions. The front of her shirt was stained with blood from where her hands had rubbed and the knee of one leg of her jeans was torn. Clark gently deposited her on the closed toilet seat.

"Clark," she began, but he placed his hand over her mouth and shook his head.

"I don't want to hear you say you're fine one more time." Chloe drew her eyebrows together in confusion and irritation and Clark thought she looked so cute that if he hadn't been so irritated himself, he might have kissed her. Instead, he crouched before her and put his hands on her shoulders. Naturally, the second he uncovered her mouth she tried to speak, but this time he silenced her with just a frown.

"Chloe, we are going to find Lois," he promised. Chloe bit her lower lip and nodded, her worry clearly written in her eyes. In that moment, it struck Clark all over again how amazing Chloe really was.

She'd know this Lois for less than a week and yet her concern was genuine and deep. Clark guessed they bonded, but even had they not shared so much in common, Clark knew Chloe would have cared, would have felt responsible. Her first concern was always for others. Clark also knew that given the option, she would run herself into the ground before taking the time to take care of her own needs. She needed someone to take care of her for a change.

"The best way you can help Lois is to take some time to make sure you're going to be conscious long enough to help." She looked away, but he cupped her chin and brought her face back. He tilted her chin up and studied her again. Chloe waited expectantly while he took in the dark circles under her eyes, the hollows in her cheeks and the fine trembling in her hands. He suddenly scowled, recognizing the signs. "When's the last time you had anything besides coffee?"

He didn't wait for her reply, but vanished only to reappear a couple seconds later. He was holding a plate loaded with tempting choices. "Eat something."

Though her stomach rumbled loudly, she crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. "Clark, I'm not eating in the bathroom!"

"Just a snack to keep you from passing out during your shower." At the stubborn set of her jaw, he shrugged. "Ok, to keep you from cracking your head open when you faint, I guess I could join you."

Chloe blushed and dropped her eyes. "Fine, I'll eat something." She shifted to stand, but Clark put a hand on her shoulder to hold her still. "What?" Chloe questioned.

"What are you doing?" He countered.

"I have to at least wash my hands."

"You just sit." He examined the plate and selected a crisp wedge of apple.

"Clark, I appreciate your concern, but you are taking this too...mhpf." Clark popped the slice between her lips. She chewed in self-defense, but her eyes shot daggers in his direction at his highhanded treatment.

Clark looked down to hide his smile. No point in antagonizing her further, now that he was getting his way. As soon as she finished, he fed her another tidbit, this time a cube of yellow cheese. Her unusual meal settled into a silent rhythm with Clark switching between feeding her fruit, cheese, and bites of Mrs. Kent's home baked banana muffins.

As her color returned to normal and her shakiness subsided, Clark's interest in feeding her switched from concern to fascination.

Had he never paid attention to her lips before? How had he not noticed the delicate and sensuous shape of her mouth?

Supple.

Inviting.

Enticing.

He selected a grape and this time, as he placed it in her mouth, he brushed his thumb over her full lower lip, unable to resist its temptation. He heard Chloe inhale sharply. He looked away from her lips and met her eyes. She watched him warily, hungrily, and she was trembling again, but not from exhaustion. A fierce and fiery energy burned in his stomach again, but not for revenge.

His heart began to pound.

Clark set the plate on the counter next to the sink and cupped her face in his hands. He took extra care with the bruised side, his touch just a whisper against her skin. He leaned forward and her eyes fluttered shut. He moved closer until he could smell the tart scent of apples lingering on her breath. He felt a puff of heat wash over his lips.

A short series of knocks sounded on the partially open bathroom door. The nioise bounced harshly in the small space. Chloe's eyes flew open. She pulled back from Clark and looked away. Color bloomed in her cheeks.

The moment was lost.

Clark closed his eyes and sighed before saying, "Come on in." Kent, back in glasses, held a bulging washcloth and a folded stack of clothing.

"I made up a poultice to reduce the swelling and discoloration on your cheek. Hold it against the bruise for a few minutes before your shower and when you are done, I'll have another one ready." He held out the treatment.

Chloe accepted it and rested it on her cheek right away. "Thank you." She felt cooling relief immediately. Now if she could only cool the rest of her system off just as fast.

_Author's note: Next chapter, Chloe goes to the Planet (of course) to further the investigation. _


	24. Luck

"Area 51," she announced.

Both Clarks were standing in the kitchen when Chloe came down the stairs, fresh from the shower. She might not have wanted to admit it, but Clark's forced feeding followed by a hot shower was exactly what she'd needed to reboot her mind and body. Add AU Clark's miracle concoction to the mix and she felt almost one hundred percent.

The poultice stopped the swelling on the side of her face after only one application and seemed to have halted any further discoloration too. After swallowing a couple Advils, slathering her hands in antibiotic cream, and affixing a half-dozen band-aids, she was set to ignore any lingering affects.

It was as she pulled on the final cotton sock left with the borrowed t-shirt and jeans that she recalled Shark's comment about Area 51. She grabbed her shoes and ran to the stairs.

The two men of steel looked faintly puzzled by her words. Her Clark had been leaning over the counter examining a map while his counterpart (looking as cute in his glasses as Lois claimed) took a teakettle off the stovetop. Kent shook off his confusion quickly. He reached in the cabinet for a third cup and calmly waited for Chloe to elaborate. She guessed he must be used to Lois's non-sequiturs by now.

Clark pushed away from the counter and came to meet her at the bottom of the stairs. "Area 51? What about it?"

"Do you know where it is?" She directed the question mainly at Kent while he poured the tea.

Clark scrunched up his forehead. "Isn't it in Nevada?"

"No, no, not the government conspiracy Area 51, I mean around here in Metropolis. Is there a club or a theater that uses that name?"

The other Clark adjusted his glasses, set the kettle back on the burner and shook his head. "I can't think of any place, though we can check. Why?"

"I heard Shark say they'd get paid at Area 51 after they met up with Blue- the one who delivered Lois- as long as they were there before the finale."

"You're sure he said Area 51?"

"Very."

Kent looked thoughtful. "Finale? Of what?"

"I was thinking a show or some kind of performance, but perhaps even an event or an exhibition. Clark told me you are researching suspected Intergang sites. Can I see the list?"

From next to the map, Clark slid a sheet off the counter. Chloe quickly scanned its contents, but nothing clicked. "It's got to be here somewhere. Maybe it's an underground club, something non-mainstream."

"Like that kill or be killed internet site we shut down."

"Maybe. Shark was built like a steroid pusher's best customer, but he and his buddies weren't exactly top tier employees. I'd say just contract labor. I need to do a cross check. Point me to the computer."

"I don't have a good computer at home. The laptop is too slow for what you need. We've been doing all our research at the Planet."

Chloe's eyes sparkled and her grin got wider. "Ok, good. We're off to the Planet…wait." Chloe, clearly distressed, glanced down at her very casual outfit. "I can't go to the Planet wearing…," she shook her head, "never mind. It doesn't matter, let's go."

Clark squeezed Chloe's hand, knowing how much a professional appearance at the Daily Planet, any Daily Planet, did matter to her. He was at least able to reunite her with her bag of goodies left behind on the rooftop. While Clark had tended to Chloe, Superman took care of the fallen fire escape and returned with Chloe's possessions.

Chloe was glad to have it back. Besides holding her arsenal, she'd also slipped in a pair of work shoes (the ubiquitous low-heeled, black flats). At least she was saved the indignity of tennis shoes in the newsroom.

Taking Kent's Jeep, they arrived in about ten minutes. Clark Kent Senior vouched for her and the guard came up with a guest pass. Clark Junior produced his very own press identification. Chloe grabbed it to exam as soon as they were in the elevator.

The camera sure loved Clark. She ran a finger lightly over the plastic laminate protecting his face. She experienced a thrill seeing Clark's picture underneath the Daily Planet logo, both her dreams together, but paused at the name next to it.

"Cal Sullivan?"

Clark ducked his head a little and blushed. "Well, the news room couldn't have two Clark Kents and I was on the spot to come up with a name and so Cal from Kal'el.

"And Sullivan?" She asked, arching her eyebrow and smiling.

He shrugged and confessed, "I was thinking of you a lot."

Chloe went up on her tiptoes and pecked him on the cheek. "That's sweet."

"Sweet?" Clark stiffened, not pleased with her mild label, but Chloe had stopped paying attention to him. The doors opened to the Planet's bullpen and she eagerly stepped forward to get a closer look.

A short series of steps led to a mostly open working environment, with desks scattered throughout the room and without as much as a partition in between. Chloe felt immediately at home. The set up reminded her heavily of the Daily Planet basement back in her world. She looked over at Kent. "You work down here?"

"Yes, over there."

They walked past a coffee and snack area. Along the wall were a few posters advertising in bold lettering the best investigative team in Metropolis, Lane and Kent. Chloe glanced at the collection before skeptically asking again, "You work down here? Not in an enormous upper office? Any office?"

"No, they leave the soulless boxes to the accountants and ad executives. Perry likes to keep his staff together. Everyone feeds off the collective energy."

"Perry?"

"Perry White, the editor, as much an institution as the Planet itself."

Chloe grabbed Kent's sleeve and stopped. "Perry White, seriously?" She glanced over at Clark for confirmation. He nodded.

"Yeah, that Perry White, or rather, the same but …"

"Different," Chloe finished for him. "I'm getting it, but still, I'm glad for him."

Kent brought them to Lois's desk and logged in using her password. He clicked on a file and gestured to the contents. "Here is the list of possible sites. Give me a second to update the file." He glanced around to make certain no one was looking and then let his fingers rapidly fly over the keys. "There. I've put our finds by each entry. The starred ones have yet to be searched."

Clicking open another file, he said, "Over here is a list we've compiled of persons with possible Intergang ties. Anyone from the lowliest purse-snatcher to politicians. It's pretty big."

Clark interrupted. "Maybe I can help comb through that for the most likely suspects or at least weed out some." He headed over to Kent's desk to get started.

Chloe plopped down in front of the computer, a computer that looked a minimum of ten years out of date. They didn't even have flat panel screens. She glanced around the newsroom. No one did. The hard drive sitting on the desk didn't inspire much confidence either. She was praying the computer hooked into a network and that a massively powerful CPU was hiding in a computer room ready to assist. Otherwise, this was going to take a very long time.

She summoned a confident smile to cover her concerns and pushed ahead. "I'm going to start running a cross reference on the sites, people and Area 51. I'll also see what I can dig up on our man eating Shark and his buddy Blue."

Kent approved of her confident approach He started to leave her to her task, but stopped and looked back over his shoulder. "Clark said when it comes to finding a needle in a haystack, you're the best." He walked the rest of the way across the room to where Clark waited by his desk.

Chloe bit her lip as she watched him go. She sighed, "Great, no pressure."

XXXX XXXX XXXX

He left Clark and his Chloe to work the computers while he took to the sky searching and scanning for Lois. He didn't expect success, this was Intergang, and they were not going to just leave Lois out in the open exposed to Superman's abilities. No, she was probably in some sound proofed, lead lined room.

Intellectually, he knew finding Lois would come from dogged sleuthing; however, in case someone had gotten sloppy, he'd fly the city looking and listening. Sometimes blind luck played a part.

Blind luck had been making regular appearances since Clark suddenly appeared in their world. Starting with the coincidence that had Clark crossing paths with Lois in the park (saving her purse from the mugger), and then following with Lois connecting him to the strange events at the Daily Planet and out at his parent's farm.

He didn't consider himself a superstitious man, but he did believe the cosmos liked order and balance. It might have just been dumb luck or it might have been the universe trying to fix extraordinary events. Of course, he had no such magnanimous thoughts toward a universe that had mistakenly taken Lois back instead of Clark. A half-second later and Alt Clark would have been holding the watch like resonator recorder, and he, not Lois, would have gone home.

When Dr. Davinhoe and Dr. Hamlish of Star Labs reluctantly admitted they couldn't do anything, he might have given into despair if not for the unshakable confidence his counterpart had in the mysterious Miss Sullivan.

Clark's faith had been justified. She'd gotten Lois back to this universe, a feat even Superman couldn't accomplish. He found now, his overall concern for Lois's safety was tempered some, knowing this was a problem he could solve. Still, knowing she was back and yet out of his reach was maddening.

Another fickle turn of luck had Lois and Chloe leaving Met U while Intergang had its thugs waiting. Now that he took time to think about it, why would Intergang be watching the campus? It didn't make sense...unless they followed Clark. He had gone back just the previous night. Intergang would have been watching the townhouse; maybe they just got lucky and were at the campus to recognized "Cal Sullivan".

Really, hiding her on a college campus wouldn't have been a bad location. She'd have been isolated from the general public, had security at the perimeter, and in a self- contained city within a city. Later when they were leaving, Intergang's people must have thought Chloe was Lois's student connection. Chloe even fit the right age of the typical college student, but from the way Clark talked of her, that was the only way in which she was ordinary.

Clark might have been exaggerating. Being in love, at least initially, did seem to amplify all the good qualities of ones object of affection, often leaving one blind to the negative.

No, he discarded that notion. The young Clark Kent was more blind to the fact that he _was_ in love with her than anything. What else could explain why they were "just friends" when the attraction between them was so palpable.

They were "just friends" in the same manner he and Lois had been back when they first started working together. No, he smiled and admitted to himself, that wasn't true. In some ways, Chloe and Clark's relationship was already deeper and stronger than what he and Lois had in the beginning. Clark didn't have to conceal who he was from Chloe.

She obviously was _very_ comfortable with his abilities and when he (Superman) showed up, she transferred her knowledgeable attitude immediately. Pragmatically, she used her understanding of what he could do to try to save precious seconds.

He wasn't too used to others making full use of his abilities. Sure, everyone was aware of how his strength and speed could make an impact, but Chloe reacted in the same manner he'd come to expect from Lois. Apart from his parents, the only other person he knew who viewed his abilities as fully natural was Lois.

It suddenly struck him that no where between the reunion on the roof, regrouping back at the townhome, or working out of the Planet had he and Chloe been formally introduced. When he saw Clark hovering over the city, it took but a second to realize who she had to be and the importance she held in Clark's life. He still wasn't certain what led Clark to her. She'd been silent until after Clark caught her. Somehow, their close connection allowed a way for her to be found.

It also occurred to him he hadn't taken the time to find out why she came back with Lois in the first place. He was grateful she had or Intergang would have plucked Lois off the street and he wouldn't even have known he should be looking.

Had Chloe taken a one-way trip? He wouldn't rule it out. He'd seen the way she looked at Clark.

He was her world.

He'd also seen Chloe drop her gaze and completely miss seeing Clark give her the same look in return. Did she know what she meant to Clark? Even without that knowledge, it was completely conceivable she'd stranded herself in another world just to be with him.

Their continued presence wasn't an unpleasant prospect. On a purely selfish note, he'd enjoy having "Cal" stick around. They might share the same label of Clark Kent, but "Cal" was different enough that it was like having found a long lost brother rather than a clone.

In addition, between the stories Clark told him and his own brief time with her, he found himself thinking Chloe could easily pass for an alternative universe Lois. It wasn't much more of a stretch to compare Chloe and Lois than it was to compare him and Clark. Chloe didn't have the right name, but as Shakespeare said, "A rose by any other name would smell as sweet."

In fact, it had been their similarities that forced him to the skies. While they didn't look anything alike, he'd found himself overwhelmingly missing Lois because of the too familiar energy Chloe radiated. It rolled in waves from her as she immersed herself in all the angles of the investigation. No one was like Lois, but Chloe could have been another version living in another world.

Superman adjusted his flight plan. He had methodically searched the city from the air for the last hour and found no trace of Lois. It was time to leave luck behind and get back to the real investigation. Something in his gut told him they were almost out of time.


	25. Reflections and Research

Chloe fiddled with the knob, trying to pull in a clearer signal from the radio station while they hurtled up the interstate. A few moments of adjustments and Elvis's Hound Dog, bounced cheerfully in the confines of the pick-up's cab.

Perry, on her left, thumped the steering wheel in delight and gleefully warbled along with the King. Jimmy, to her right, joined the chorus on cue making Chloe realize this sort of spontaneous sing along wasn't uncommon.

She hid her smile and returned her attention to the laptop she brought along for the drive. She managed to jerry rig an internet connection between it, a clunky grey cell phone, and an external modem. The hastily strung together system mainted the signal, but the excessively long cables kept tangling with the gearshift and her feet.

She straightened the cords and checked the remaining life on the cell battery. It had perhaps half a charge left. Perry scrounged three back ups, but the power drain from the continuous use was enormous and she had only one remaining. She checked the status of the search program; it was close to three quarters of the way done. She hoped for it to finish before the battery died or she'd have to start the program all over.

She sighed. Lois and Clark inhabited a universe full of technological paradoxes. Super slow searches were just the tip of the iceberg.

How could it be that their scientists were performing zero gravity gene therapy aboard a globally supported space station while cell phones were still stuck back in circa 1995? How could the topic of frog eating clones be a legitimate scientific story (not merely Inquisitor nonsense) while the World Wide Web had only dial-up access?

No DSL.

No wireless.

Email remained on the cutting edge and instant messaging for the masses was only a dream.

Still, after several hours of perseverance, she started making headway with the Planet's resources. Then later during her search, the retro status of most things relating to computers began working in her favor.

Back in her world, she was a hacker of just above average ability. In this world, she could have made her way onto the President's hard drive given enough time. Here, her skills were at least ten years ahead of the best firewalls. The flash drive she'd tossed in her satchel before she'd switched universes contained her best encryption breaking protocols. It had taken her more time to down load it onto floppy discs than it had taken her to use it to break into Intergang financial records.

Jimmy had been very helpful in accessing the information and synchronizing it for use on the incompatible equipment. It had been fortunately that he and Perry had stopped by the Planet after fishing. In fact, their poles and tackle boxes were still in the back of the pick up and Perry's fishing hat, abundantly decorated with fuzzy flies and exposed hooks, rested on the dashboard. She eyed it warily. A few miles back, they'd gone round a curve too fast and the floppy monster attacked.

She escaped with minor trauma.

Despite the hat, she really was grateful for their arrival, even if the first few moments had been a bit rocky. Both Jimmy and Mr. White had been sweetly protective of Lois's working space. It hadn't helped that they came in while both of the Clarks were out. Kent hadn't returned from his reconnoiter of the city and Chloe had finally broke down and sent Clark out to get coffee. The sludge brewed Saturday at the Planet was thick enough to repave the parking lot.

Naturally, when Jimmy and Perry saw a strange blond woman up to her elbows in printouts and clacking away on Lois Lane's keyboard, they demanded to know just who she was and what she was doing at Lois's desk.

She flashed her visitor's pass, held out her hand to the older gentleman, and introduced herself. "I'm Chloe Sullivan. I'm working with Clark Kent on this Intergang mess." In turn, she got a quick introduction from them and no time to processes who she was speaking with before they started quizzing her. She gave them an abbreviated version of the day's events, knowing they would want to help.

"Sullivan, Sullivan…any relationship to Cal, the other youngster Kent brought in on this?"

Jimmy chimed in, "Yeah, is he like your brother or cousin?" He asked with a hopeful grin.

"No, I, ah, no," she stammered and felt her cheeks burn.

Though she'd worked hard for many years convincing herself that her friendship with Clark was merely going to be platonic, she'd never once thought of him as a brother or even cousin. The almost kiss from that morning flashed through her mind, further enforcing her non-sisterly feelings.

That earlier _almost _moment, it had come up so quickly, virtually out of nowhere. She'd certainly hadn't felt the least bit seductive as she sat on a toilet seat, dirty and disheveled, while Clark made her eat something.

She'd been battling against being infuriated with Clark, knowing that wouldn't really be fair. She hated that Clark had been right, hated not being on top of something as simple as eating, but his highhanded methods had left her confused. Part of her enjoyed his protectiveness, but he'd been making her feel like a child. Then suddenly his thumb had brushed her lip…deliberately…and she left all childish thoughts behind.

Instantly, acute awareness of Clark's closeness replaced all her irritation, the tingling pleasure coursing through her lips chasing it all away. She'd looked in his eyes and seen…she'd thought she had seen…desire...desire for her, Chloe Sullivan. She hadn't been able to breathe or move for fear of interrupting the silent message he seemed to be sending.

Instead of looking away, or speaking, or doing anything else to erase the tension of the moment, he'd freed his hands and moved closer. She knew she'd been shaking by the time he touched her face. She'd been so certain of what was going to happen.

Though her eyes had been closed, she knew when he'd leaned forward. She'd felt his radiating heat and its increased intensity. Then Kent knocked on the bathroom door, wrenching her out of her dream like trance, and now she couldn't be sure of what happened.

Well, she knew what _had_ happened…nothing.

Had, though, what she _thought_ was going to happen, really almost happen? Or, had the adrenaline of the situation mixed with her pent up fear of never seeing Clark again led her to misinterpret Clark's actions?

After she'd closed the bathroom door behind both Kents, she'd taken another good look at herself in the mirror. She still saw blood and dirt streaks covering her face and hair trying to decide if all of it wanted to stand on end. No woman in her right mind could think she'd be attractive to any man looking that way. Maybe Clark had accidentally bumped her lip. Maybe when he'd cupped her face in her hands, he had been simply trying to examine her bruises.

She'd come down from her shower determined to stick to business, but hoping Clark would give her a hint about what motivated his earlier actions, but he'd been all business too.

Now both of them were acting as if nothing happened and she was left wondering if anything had.

Chloe stared out the window of the pick-up, tuning out the King, and letting her mind continue to wander. If she could trust her judgment, and she was no longer sure she could, then maybe she'd seen something in the way Clark reacted to finding the new Jimmy Olson hovering at her desk.

She'd just explained to Jimmy her need to access the information held on her flash drive. They'd been plotting how to use the Planet's mainframe to open it up when Clark returned from his coffee run. Jimmy glanced up, saw "C. S.", and proceeded to geek out over the "experimental technology" Chloe was testing.

Chloe decided either she or Clark must have been putting out an uncomfortable vibe because Jimmy went from happy techno babble to, "Wait…you said he's not your brother or cousin, but did I still get it wrong? He was desperate to find you that first night, but he said it was an inside joke, didn't mean anything, but I mean, both named Sullivan, he's not your…I mean you two aren't …"

Chloe blushed for the umpteenth time that day. "No." She demurred softly. "We're friends." Her eyes darted over to Clark.

He didn't say anything at first, but his face…she'd held her breath, not certain what his furrowed brow foretold. A moment later though, he lost all expression, handed her the extra foam latte, and mumbled in a flat voice, "Yeah, friends."

For reasons Chloe didn't care to examine then, she was suddenly and thoroughly irritated again.

Oblivious to the undercurrents, Jimmy wiped his hand across his forehead in an exaggerated motion. "Phew! I was afraid I was going to lose you to the other guy before I'd even taken you out to dinner." He grinned and waggled his eyebrows at Chloe. Clark watched stoic and stone-faced.

Her irritation was redirected to Jimmy's presumption. "Or asked," she snarked. Instantly contrite, Jimmy's face fell, but Chloe waved him off, forestalling an unwanted apology or worse, a genuine invitation. "How about getting a chance to download those files?" Jimmy's glee rebounded.

He grabbed the data file and backed away grinning and pointing. "Be back in a flash."

With his departure, Chloe turned her back on Clark, ignoring him, and buried her nose in the fresh data on her screen. After a moment, she heard Clark walk over to his desk.

She had closed her eyes, sighed, and then dived back into her search. She'd been on to something and took comfort in being certain at least of her role as investigative reporter--even if she was unsure about her relationship with Clark.

Really, she sighed again, admitting the truth, she was unsure when it came to any possible relationship.

She'd said goodbye to the Jimmy from her world because she was knew she was never going to truly love him.

Bruce Wayne was intriguing, but they'd only been playing a game, each trying to stay one-step ahead of the other while using one other for their own means. It had been an equitable trade.

Bruce had wanted to know how she'd traced the the special metal alloy back to Oliver Queen (whom Bruce supplied) presumably to maintain his secret (though that hadn't worked too well) and she'd needed his financial help to retrieve Clark. In the short time she'd know Mr. Wayne, she'd discovered he had a great deal in common with Clark and yet they were so diametrically opposite. She enjoyed his polish and outspoken nature, yet missed Clark's innate desire to believe the best in people.

Still, she was betting that Bruce would follow through with the instructions she'd left with Milt and Victor. She didn't question the mysterious Mr. Wayne's integrity, just his sincerity. Hopefully, his scientific curiosity would be enough to overcome any lingering animosity he might be feeling toward her after she zapped him this morning.

She could hardly believe that had happened just this morning. It seemed a lifetime ago. Nevertheless, in reality, not even half a day had past…which might not have given him time to move past that little incident with the stun gun. She was feeling a mite more contrite since Shark had given her a taste of her own medicine.

No matter. Chloe seriously doubted even Bruce, call me Batman, Wayne could have the lab and the AU-Ray up and running in time to meet the first scheduled retrieval attempt. That first one being in, she glanced at her watch, two hours.

She created the timetable with Milton prior to finding out about the University's plan to root out the source of its energy fluctuations. Naturally, campus security's search tossed the schedule into temporary chaos by forcing Milt and Victor to relocate the unauthorized lab.

Still, if by some miraculous circumstance they were able to try retrieval, they wouldn't have any luck.

When Lois was kidnapped, she still had the resonator recorder in her possession, so Chloe couldn't recalibrate and give it to Clark-- meaning Milton and Victor would have no way of identifying Clark and pulling him home. Unwilling to risk retrieval without him, Chloe deactivated her tagging device too. She figured she had a few days anyway before her signal, her vibrations, began realigning with this universe.

Instinctively, Chloe knew Clark wouldn't be happy she was taking any chances. Therefore, she hadn't told him. Finding Lois was their priority anyway. Chloe felt she'd failed Lois by letting her be kidnapped. The least she could do was see her safely back in her husband's arms.

Of course finding Lois wouldn't guarantee they'd find the watch-like resonator recorder. It might already be lost or broken.

She didn't like to think she might fail Clark too, but, if faced with the choice of going home without Clark or never going home at all, Chloe didn't have to think about her answer.

Once again, she shied away from what that revelation really meant.

After working on the flash drive for about an hour, Jimmy had returned flushed with victory and bearing an array of floppy discs filled with her encryption cracking and firewall-busting algorithms. Ten minutes later, she pushed back her chair and announced, "I've got it. I know the location of Area 51."

Kent rushed to her borrowed desk so rapidly she wondered if a bit of super speed slipped out. Her triumphant cry caught Mr. White and Jimmy's attention too. Neither had wanted to go home while Lois was still missing and they joined Kent and Clark to form a ring around the desk.

"So young lady, what was this about Area 51?" Perry asked.

Clark quickly filled Perry and Jimmy in on the conversation Chloe had overheard during her own kidnapping.

Impatiently Kent asked, "What did you find?"

She could see his building anxiety, so she skipped the particulars that led to her discovery, opened a mapbook, and handed it directly to Kent. She tapped a page and said, "This area off of the interstate, next to the lake, this must be Area 51."

Perry scratched his head. "I know that area, it's about an hour and a half, two hours away, about fifteen miles from Lake Placid, but it's nothing but scrub farmland, forest, and the odd, scattered hobby farm. Are you sure this is what you are looking for?"

"Yes. Look at the name of the lake."

Jimmy read it aloud. "Bride Lake. So?" He shrugged.

Clark peered over Kent's shoulder to study the map and then explained to Jimmy. "In the Nevada version of Area 51, part of it is known as Groom Lake."

"Seems like kind of a weak connection to me."

"Ok," Chloe said, her eyes flashing. "How about that on mile marker 51 the land begins and," she leaned across the desk to grab a history of the properties owners. "How about the fact that up until 1959, when they went out of business, the land was owned by the Ross Well & Drilling Company who dabbled in mining a phosphorous mineral found abundantly in the area. Reports say workers had to shower carefully otherwise they'd go home sporting an "unearthly green glow."

Both Clark and Kent gave her a sharp look unseen by Jimmy or Perry. She minutely shook her head and reassured them. "Of course the mineral is entirely terrestrial and completely harmless, but it did afford the area a certain reputation."

"The Ross Well & Drilling Co. Roswell." Perry mumbled under his breath and then said louder, "I think she's got it."

The brightness of Chloe's smile went up a notch. "Think nothing; I'm sure of it. According to these records, the majority owner of the area next to Bride Lake also happens to be Intergang's legitimate face to the world, CostMart."

"What about the finale Shark was meeting Blue before?" Kent asked.

Chloe's smile dimmed. "I'm not completely sure. There is a festival happening there right now, but I can't imagine much of a finale planned for a tractor and threshing show." Kent's disappointment was clear. She rushed on. "But, if Lois is there, I think I know where she might be held."

"Where?"

"I read multiple reports confirming that there is a decommissioned missile silo in the area, the underground sections still completely assessable, hidden under one of the houses."

"What?" Jimmy looked incredulous.

"It's true. The government in the early nineteen sixties built a dozen Atlas-F missile silos for the bargain basement price of 18 million a pop, only to decommission them shortly thereafter."

Chloe jiggled her mouse and opened another screen. "Now, I can't access the all the local property records for that area, the township's records aren't all computerized, so, I'm just not sure under which house, but I'm running a search on the names of the privately owned properties in the area. I just need time to peel back the layers and make a connection to Intergang."

Perry clapped in hands together. "Alright, this is good. This is a solid lead and I say we check it out." He pointed at Chloe. "Ms. Sullivan, how long before your, ah, computerized search thing is done?"

She glanced at the screen and frowned. "It's going to take some time, maybe one to two hours, but if I can lay my hands on some equipment, I can finish it on the way."

"What do you need?"

Chloe rattled off a few items to set her free digitally. "I'm on it!" Jimmy yelled and went to gather the cell phone, cables and modem to go with a borrowed laptop.

Kent tugged at his tie and the collar of his shirt, "Chief, I'm sending Chloe with you. I'll take Cal and dig up Superman before we hit the road, maybe he'll be able to spot something from the air."

Chloe bit her lip, "Maybe, but the facility was built with lead shielding."

"It's better than doing nothing."

Perry patted him on the shoulder soothingly, "Of course it is. You two go along and we'll follow just as soon as we can. If she pinpoints the location, we'll call you on your mobile phone."

Kent nodded and turned to leave. Chloe watched Clark follow and join him in the elevator. Before the door shut, she spoke under her breath, too softly for Mr. White to overhear. "Good luck." Kent nodded from across the room, hope and determination stark in his eyes.

Beep, beep, beep, beep.

Something with a mellow twang was playing on the radio, but the soothing country melody that replaced Elvis wasn't what pulled Chloe back to the present.

She responded to the insistent beep and lifted the cover of the laptop. A few key punches later and she smiled.

The search was complete. She had the location.

_Author's note: Yes, yes, I was very bad and am very tardy this time around. Thank you to a couple new reviewers, Star999 and Alwaysright1, for leaving recent reviews that prompted me to get off my lazy butt and post. _


	26. Payment

_This might be my record for posting. (only 4 days!) I hope to continue the streak._

Lois fought the blackness back, swimming to the surface of consciousness, refusing to be sucked back down into that helpless void. She'd made the trip once before, only to have oblivion forced upon her again. She stifled the moan wanting to slip past her lips.

Lord her head hurt. She didn't think the headache came from physical trauma, but she was having a hard time convincing the squirrels tap dancing in her head of that fact.

Squirrels?

Ok, she wasn't yet completely lucid. What kind of concoction had they used to send her back under? She concentrated on not letting anyone know she was awake this time.

She let awareness seep back into her soul. At least this time she was lying on a surface with some give to it rather than bouncing on the cold floor in the back of a van. Of course, she usually found it much simpler to escape during transport than after reaching her kidnappers intended destination, so she shouldn't be too happy about the soft, stable surface on which she was lying.

She found it bordering on the pathetic that she had been kidnapped often enough to work out typical escape protocols, rating the situation by the varying degrees of difficulty. Normal people didn't have a usually preferred method of escape. She dismissed that thought; it didn't matter, as long as she did always escape.

Of course, Superman factored in most of her recent escapades…Ok, even in a majority of her past ones too. Her heart twisted. Clark might not even know she was home. She was going to die, leaving him alone for the rest of his life. Tears burned behind her eyelids.

No, no, no! That wasn't her talking, er, she meant, thinking. She wasn't going to let the remnants of her captor's drug cloud her judgment and leave her weepy and maudlin. Ok, she told herself, think logically. Concentrate on the here and now.

Oh hell. She really had to use the bathroom.

Awareness of her new problem wiped out any room for sentimentality and spurred her to action. She lifted one of her eyelids just a fraction. Warm glowing light reflected evenly off curved walls.

"Hello Ms. Lane."

Lois flinched. So much for stealth.

She slowly opened her eyes all the way and turned her head toward the sound of the familiar nasal voice. "William Walldecker? You are my kidnapper?" After her last encounter with him, his simpering southern twang was unforgettable.

"Oh, heavens no Ms. Lane." The small white haired man exclaimed. "I'd never do something like that, well, not on purpose."

"You accidentally kidnapped me?" She levered herself up off the couch cushions and into a sitting position.

He looked sheepish. "Not exactly, but I never really thought they'd be able to catch you." He put his hands on his hips, shook his head, and made a tisking sound. "Really, Ms. Lane, or do you go by your married name now?"

"Does it matter right now?"

"My, you are getting snippy now that you have a ring on your finger. I guess I shouldn't be surprised that you are no longer very good at this sort of thing. They say Superman wasn't even around. Maybe I made a mistake demanding you as my payment. He must be getting bored with you."

"He is not bored with me!" She snapped. "I was just coming back…Oh, never mind." She wasn't going to let this irritating little man get to her. She was not explaining herself to the former Resplendent Man.

This was the man who, while Superman was in the middle of rescuing him, was struck by lighting. The energy bolt transferred a copy of all Superman's powers to William Wallace Webster Walldecker. Did he use his newfound ability to help humanity, like Superman? Sort of, but only if they were willing to pay his fee. He'd returned his powers to Superman in order to save his sister Wandamae. Lois thought he'd given up on a life of crime, but she'd been wrong before.

Her groggy mind finally focused in on what he had said. Anger darkened her expression. "Payment? You demanded me as payment?"

"Now, now, Ms. Lane. No need for hostilities. There's a perfectly reasonable explanation for everything. Hopefully you are right about Superman's affection remaining undimmed since your marriage to Clark Kent."

He nonchalantly plucked a piece of lint off his trousers and sighed. "This all would have been much simpler if you'd have had the sense simply not to let yourself get taken in the first place. However, I'm not judging, we all can get a little sloppy as we age. Well, not me, but I am sympathetic to your plight."

Frustration boiled in Lois. "Arrrgh!" She buried her hands in her hair, clenching her fists tightly on either side of her head. "William Walldecker, you tell me what is going on here! Why have you "accidentally" kidnapped me? What did you mean payment? Where are we? More importantly…Where is the bathroom!"

"Right through there." He pointed to a recessed door a few feet away. Lois jumped up and made a beeline. Her aggravation rose several more notches when she realized the bathroom was windowless. She made quick use of the facilities and then took her time splashing water on her face, rinsing her mouth, and rehydrating. A knock came on the door.

"Ms. Lane? Ms. Lane? There's no sense in hiding in the bathroom. It's as much your fault we are in this predicament as it is mine."

She wrenched open the bathroom door, narrowed her eyes, and scowled down at him. "What did you say?"

"I'm not mad, really I'm not."

"Mm…mad?" She stuttered, abandoning any composure she'd gathered while in the bathroom. "You're not mad? Wonderful. How lucky for me."

William frowned at her sarcasm and put his hand on his hips once again. "Really Ms. Lane, I expected a more professional attitude from you."

"You had me kidnapped!"

"I told you, that wasn't supposed to happen," he whined. "They were supposed to _try_ to kidnap you and naturally I assumed Superman would save you. Honey, really, the moron that brought you in, I could have escaped him!"

Lois had a vague memory of a rail thin man injecting her in the van. He'd been a wisp of a man. In a huff, she crossed her arms in front of her body. "He wasn't by himself you know. There were three goons…Oh, no, Chloe!"

"Hmm?" William looked up.

Lois gripped his wrist. "Chloe. When these goons jumped me, I wasn't alone; I was with a friend, Chloe Sullivan. Where is she?"

"Oh dear." William bit his thumb and wouldn't meet her eyes.

"What? What do you know?" She grasped him by both his shoulders.

"Well, now, how was I supposed to know?"

"What did you do?"

"Nothing!"

"Walldecker!"

"I didn't do anything, but I did overhear them talking about getting rid of some excess baggage they'd picked up along with you. I just thought you had an unusually large purse of something." He paused and tapped his finger thoughtfully against his chin. "Though I did find it odd that the one called Shark was so excited about tossing it off the roof."

He tossed his hands up in the air, "But have you seen him? He's a hulk, with a brain formed in decreasing proportion to his biceps. I just thought he was one of those men who get excited by explosions, demolition derbies, and well, tossing purses off twenty story buildings. Anyway, what could I have done?"

Lois sank down on the edge of the couch as icy horror clawed at her gut. Had she failed Chloe? Did she lead Chloe to the universe where her Clark was trapped, only to send her directly to her death? Lois clenched her fists into tight balls, slowly shaking her head in denial.

"Ms. Lane, now is not the time to sink into useless depression. If we don't act soon, we're going to be the next ones they toss off a building. Besides, just because Superman is tired of you doesn't mean he didn't reach your Ms. Sullivan in time."

Lois blinked back tears and nodded, holding on to that hope and trying to ignore the part of her that wondered if it would have even occurred to Chloe to call for Superman or if she would have even been awake to have the chance.

Lois pushed her doubts aside. "You're right. I have to focus on…" She turned to stare at the small man in front of her. "Why am I here again?" A second later, she held up a hand, cutting off his braying. "On second thought, just tell me why you are here."

William sat in the chair adjacent to the couch and leaned her direction in a conspiritory manner. "After I went out of business, you know the superhero business; I was working on writing a book. It was going to share all my heroic exploits and reveal my secrets. On day, I got an exclusive offer to sell it and it wasn't the kind of offer I could refuse."

"What did they offer you? Cash, gold, diamonds?" She asked wearily.

"Wandamae's life."

"Oh! I'm so sorry. Is she alright?" Wandamae was his sister and only family.

"Yes, yes she's fine. Still confused, still thinks she's Mrs. Abraham Lincoln and that your husband is Superman." Lois laughed nervously and he went on. "But they only finally left her alone at the sanitarium because I convinced them her life wasn't worth anything to me."

"I thought you loved your sister."

"I do! But I told them ever since Superman, you, and that other reporter interfered in my life; I was consumed by no other thought but revenge."

"They believed that? Wait, who are they exactly, and what do they really want from you. I mean, I know the publishing business is cut throat, but this is ridiculous."

"As far as I know, they are a group that was working for," he looked around and then whispered, "Intergang, but they didn't like it that a woman was calling the shots. They claim to be the ones that set up Mindy Church. Now that she's is going to jail, they want their first days as leaders of Intergang to be very memorable."

"Ok, but once again, what do they want with you?"

"See, I was shopping my book around with the promise to reveal the secret of how I got my powers…and I hinted that I could, if I wanted, get them back."

"Oh, William."

"It's not true, you know that. I don't even remember how I became Resplendent Man, I mean the abilities, of course I remember making the costume. I really do think chartreuse was the only was to go."

Lois rolled her eyes. "And now the new leadership behind Intergang wants you to…"

He interrupted, "Transform several members in to a Supergang."

"You told them you could?"

"It's not like they left me much choice."

"So you…"

"Promised to give them what they want in exchange for you as my payment. I thought if they tried to kidnap you, Superman would rescue you and then you and Clark Kent would track down those who tried to snatch you and come save me. I guess when Superman comes to your rescue now; it could still all work out."

Lois ran a hand through her hair and muttered, "If he even knows I've been taken."

"Wouldn't he or at least your husband notice?"

She sighed, "I'd…ah…been away and had just returned unexpectedly." She shook her head. "Clark didn't know I was back in town."

Walldecker's gnome like face fell. "We're doomed!"

"Now, now, this is not the time to sink into useless depression," It boosted her spirits, turning William's words back against him. She looked around the circular room and commented. "I haven't noticed any guards. What's to stop us from leaving and finding Superman ourselves."

"They don't need any guards. We're underground and the only way I know out is past a 2000lb blast door."

"What?" William nodded morosely. Lois sighed and then pointed to a spiral staircase in the center of the room. "Where does that lead?"

"Only to the lower level. That door over there opens to a hallway that connects us to the exit stairs and to the silo shaft. This area used to be the command center for a missile silo built to withstand a nuclear assault. We're doomed!" Lois ignored him.

"What about a phone or radio to communicate with the surface?"

Walldecker shook his head. "When I call Wandamae once a week, they have to bring a phone with them for me to use and I've never seen a radio."

"Once a week! How long have you been down here?"

"Oh, going on a month. I keep busy though, I had a lab to set up in the old missile silo area, right at the top. They've had me down here before they ever set up Mindy Church. Lovely women, and I think a lot brighter than people gave her credit, she had the most wonderful highlights in her hair."

"William, try to focus. You're not a scientist, why a lab?"

"They don't know that. I was putting it in order in preparation for the day my payment-that's you Ms. Lane- arrived. If you had done your job right, then that day would never have come. Now they expect me to do my trick. Candidates are going to start parading in and I'm supposed to suped them up tonight. It's to be the grand finale' to all their planning."

The little man rocked on his heels and swallowed hard. "If I don't come through, then they are going to see if I can fly. I heard them. Ms. Lane, the silo shaft is over eighty feet high, I don't want to die and I certainly don't want to have time to think about dying on my way down!"

"It's going to be alright." She patted his hand absently. Something about Walldecker's tale wasn't sitting right. "Wait a minute. Why would anyone think you could give them Superman's powers if you can't escape this place? Why wouldn't they expect you to just power up and bust out of here?"

"Did I tell you that the men I've come in contact with haven't been very bright? That Shark one, he's the baby brother of the leader of the group. His brother maybe older , but he's not much wiser, just a thug in the boardroom instead of on the street. They're all thugs."

He thought for a moment, before getting excited, "Oh, they also weren't worried about me escaping because they think I want to be here. You know, for the revenge. After I make Shark super, he is supposed to take you and dispose of your body so it looks like an accident," he told her gleefully.

"What!"

"Don't worry; you know I don't know how to transfer Superman's powers to anyone."

"That's entirely too bad." A bulky man, stocky, but still showing a hint of his former physique through his tailored suit walked the rest of the way up the spiral staircase coming up from the middle of the round room.

William Wallace Webster Walldecker took one look at the man with a heavy gun in his hand, slid out of the chair, and fell to his knees. "We're doomed! We're doomed!"

"Would you just shut up?!" Lois shouted.

The man with the gun smiled predatorily, showing his teeth. "Don't shut him up now Ms. Lane, Walldecker finally knows what he's talking about."

_Author's note: There really is an extreme home built not too far from Lake Placid in New York that is constructed on top of an old missile silo. A house constructed on top makes the place look totally normal from above and the control center was converted in to a two level apartment. In addition, William was a character from the second season of Lois and Clark. Go Resplendent Man!_


	27. Tracking and Tractors

High above the overworked farmland and the clumps of remaining forest clinging to its edges, Superman made another seemingly lazy pass over the area Chloe had indicated on the map. He stayed above the clouds, not allowing any folks milling around at the Bride Lake Tractor and Threshing celebration catch sight of his familiar crimson cape.

He didn't dare let word of his arrival get back to Lois's captors. If she was being kept hidden somewhere near, his presence might spark desperate action like moving or even disposing of her altogether. Even if she wasn't stashed close by, chances were her kidnappers were among the surprisingly plentiful throng of festival attendees. If that was the case, he didn't want to spook them before Chloe came to confirm their identity.

When he first arrived, he risked a low aerial sweep; zooming in a grid-like manner at speeds invisible to the naked eye, but the sonic boom that followed in his wake caught everyone's attention. Most wrote off the one time event, blaming one of the test planes the government was know to have in the area.

He'd spent most of the previous hour and a half mingling with the crowd. Clark had done the same in a different section and was still on watch.

They kept their eyes and ears open, in ways only they could, trying to pick up information from the crowd since his scans turned up nothing. While the green glowing mineral in the area was not deadly kryptonite, it did limit their ability to see underground. It didn't block their x-ray vision as lead did, but images a few feet down were distorted to the point of being unrecognizable.

Above ground though, he didn't need to rely on his x-ray vision to try to spot a couple of likely kidnapping suspects amongst the row upon row (upon row) of vintage and antique tractors and farm equipment. He couldn't quite imagine a fan of antique tractors spending his time as a thug for Intergang, so he looked for someone not looking at the equipment.

Those attendees that were not tractor enthusiasts tended to walk around with a dull, glassy gaze and a plodding step. That included about a quarter of the crowd even when discounting long-suffering spouses. The city slickers made up another contingent, easily spotted in their impractical shoes and finding entrainment in the local yokels instead of the rural paraphernalia.

Jeans, t-shirts, and flannel were the rule of the day, with feed and seed caps perching on most every head to block the strong, late afternoon sun. Boots, both the work and cowboy variety, intermingled naturally with dusty and worn sneakers. Children still found the energy to shriek and clamber between the endless examples of John Deere, Allis Chambers, Massey, Ford, and Caterpillar tractors, but the heat of the day slowed even the most avid fan to an unhurried pace.

That is why a pair not in step with the relaxed atmosphere stood out. Their urgent stride forced the crowd to part and move to the side or be jostled out of the way. Kent trailed the two, noting that their builds matched Chloe's description, though they must have changed their clothing in an attempt to blend.

He and Clark had done likewise, switching to jeans and t-shirts with an open plaid flannel shirts worn over. Neither of them had any difficulty looking like they belonged. Heck, both even mustered up a genuine appreciation of the fine tractors. Being Jonathan Kent's son insured that.

Since his move to Metropolis, he hadn't had a chance to help his father tinker on their old beast of a tractor. Knowing Clark would never have that chance again reminded Kent to make a point not to put off that pleasure too long, but he felt paralyzed without Lois. It was impossible to make any real plans for the future. Until he had Lois back at his side, he couldn't genuinely enjoy anything. He refocused on his quarry.

The two he followed _were _trying to blend; they wore the right kind of clothing, but they acted all wrong. They showed no interest in either the exhibits or the people around them. Instead, they doggedly made their way back to the drink booth. They walked beneath the striped canopy but rather than heading straight for the drink counter, as their single-minded trek would have seemed to imply, they paused and scanned the faces of those already seated at the multiple long tables set out of the sun's glare.

Something must have caught the eye of the shorter, wiry fellow, because he nudged his companion and pointed. A third man hopped up and waved cheerfully, only sitting down when the tall, overly sculpted, blond man grabbed his shoulder and forcibly helped him back into his seat. The muscled one sat next to him and for the first time Kent could see his face. Though he wore his cap low on his forehead and sunglasses covered his eyes, the puffy red scratches marring his cheeks were still visible.

Bingo.

That must be Shark. Kent examined the other two more closely. One had a shock of red hair, and hadn't stopped grinning, even while Shark manhandled him. The other had dark hair, an olive complexion and fidgeted nervously. Kent was certain he'd stumbled on the group that had taken Lois. That made the red head the one known as Blue.

Maybe, Kent mused, Blue had earned his nickname in the same manner as a large man would pick up the moniker of Tiny, or a toy poodle got the name of Killer; or, perhaps, he was merely very pleased about his upcoming payday.

Kent was very curious about that as well. He'd quashed his first impulse to storm in and break up their reunion. He wasn't looking to scoop up just the guppies; he wanted to bring home the big fish. He needed patience to wait and see who came to meet them. From the way they intently watched the opening of the tent and examined every new arrival, it was evident that they were definitely waiting for someone.

Kent eased out of the tent and went to find his alternate ego. It was getting closer to the time their reinforcements should be arriving. He quickly found Clark and assigned him to keep an eye on the trio while Superman again took to the skies.

Ten minutes into his flight, he spotted Perry's pick-up pulling in off the road and heading for a space on the grassy field temporarily converted for use as a parking lot. From the sky, it was apparent that normally the flat field surrounded a small airstrip belonging to the house down at the end.

The organizers of the festival were using the front of the house as their headquarters, but not all its visitors looked like they belonged. Just a moment ago, a black SUV pulled in front of the garage and two men wearing three-piece suits exited and went around back to slip in the rear garage door. The dark Suburban drove to the other end of the property and parked near the refreshment tent.

Looks like Shark and company were about to have that meeting, Superman thought to himself. He then glanced back at the structure the Brooks Brother wannabes entered. His instincts told him to check it out.

He x-rayed the house and found nothing out of the ordinary. The garage was empty too.

Empty. Hmm.

He rescanned the house and the two suites were notably absent. Neither had they gone outside. The effect of the mineral in the ground halted any subterranean probing, but he was certain he'd seen the beginning of flight of stairs leading to a basement in the main house and there seemed to be an odd structure in the garage. He wanted to get a first hand look.

First, though, he returned to earth. He changed back into his normal clothing in one of the patches of forest and then jogged out to meet Perry and crew. He arrived as Mr. White was shutting the driver's door and stretching. Chloe was just sliding out as well.

"Kent, you made good time," Perry commented as he walked around the front of the truck.

"Clark! Oh, I'm so glad you found us. I tried calling, but couldn't get a signal to go through."

"You found something?"

"Yes," she reached back into the cab, pulled out the laptop, and walked to the back of the pick-up to set it on the tailgate. "Before I lost the connection, I saved the downloads. I have layout of the underground structure before it was converted and a sketch of the proposed changes, kind of a preliminary blueprint."

"Good, but did you determine where the structure is? "

"Oh, I'm sorry. It's under that house right there," she said pointing at the other end of the airstrip. "It's kind of an open secret. I mean, there was no way to erase knowledge of the buried silo from the local population's memories and when the site was converted into living space they couldn't hide all evidence of work being done. Fortunately, I found a few souls on-line who like to talk about local history, ok, gossip really. Thank goodness for early bloggers."

"Blob what's?" Asked Jimmy.

"Ah, loggers, I should say. Web loggers, you know, people who put their journal on the internet for others to read."

"Journal." Jimmy scratched his head. "You mean like a diary? Why would anyone do that?"

Chloe threw him a disbelieving glance before refocusing. "Anyway, the new owners tried to keep their project under wraps, but their building supply orders far exceeded what they would have needed to consruct just the above ground structure. So while the building permits and inspection reports are buried, lost or destroyed, most locals knew or at least suspected."

She tapped a few keys and pulled up the sketch of proposed changes and a rough blueprint. "This I found on a conspiracy theorist's website. At first some mumbo jumbo about dead magicians and voodoo curses put me off, but Jimmy swears it really happened and this blueprint does seem credible." She stepped aside so Clark could examine it.

Jimmy shook his head. "I still can't believe you didn't read about John Hendrix and his beyond the grave search for revenge."

"Sorry," she answered dryly, "must have been out of town when that happened. Was that before or after mood altering rats and genetic copies of gangsters running amuck?"

Jimmy, completely missing her sarcasm, thought for a moment and answered "After."

Chloe rolled her eyes and muttered under her breath, "And I thought Smallville was nutty."

Clark continued to study the layout and then pointed to something below the garage area. "What is this?"

"That is the golden ticket." Chloe reached in front of him and scrolled down to another sketch revealing a different angle. "The main entrance to the underground quarters is through this door, which, by the way, is made of three foot thick reinforced steel. The one entrance leads down two fights of stairs and at each landing connects to a level of the refurbished control center. This passage branches off in another direction and goes to where the missile would have been stored fifty years ago. This entrance is for invited guests only and _maybe_ Superman, but… "

Chloe pulled up the original blueprint and enlarged the area Clark had pointed to earlier. "Here in the garage, an escape hatch was added. There's no blast door to get past and you have direct access to the lower level just down this ladder."

"I saw two men in suits enter the garage. They didn't go into the adjoining house and were gone when I looked inside a moment later. They must have used that entrance."

Chloe cocked her head, hearing an underlying excitement in his voice. "You're going to take a closer look, right?"

Perry stepped in, "Now hold up, hold up just a minute. Isn't it about time to bring in the police or at the very least, wait for Superman?"

"You're right." Clark agreed pushing up his glasses. "Chief, take Jimmy and contact the state patrol. Tell them about Lois's kidnapping and that we've located three suspects."

Chloe grabbed his forearm, "We have? Where are they?" She asked in excitement. "Where's Clark?" She added looking around.

"Clark?" Jimmy asked glancing at Kent in confusion.

Chloe shook her head, "I mean Cal of course." Inwardly, she cringed at her slip while she waited for the official Clark to answer.

"Cal is keeping an eye on them," he told her. Mr. White bunched his bushy eyebrows together in concern, causing Kent to add, "Discreetly."

Perry nodded sagely, "Good, good. Don't want the boy to get over his head."

"He'll be fine, but maybe you should hurry, just in case."

"Right, right." Perry reversed direction and climbed back into the pick-up. "Olson!" He bellowed. "Get in here. The faster we go, the quicker we help Lois." Jimmy hesitated a moment looking at Chloe who had moved the laptop off the tailgate and was slipping it into the large satchel she carried.

"James Olson!" Jimmy flinched at Mr. White's second call. "Quit your dilly dallying and get in." He hurried to join him. Perry backed the rust colored Ford out of its spot, but paused to roll down the driver's window and speak to Clark.

"Now, don't do anything foolhardy while we're gone. We passed a gas station not more than five miles back. We'll bring back help soon."

"Thank you, Chief." Clark said humbly and stepped back, allowing them to pass.

Chloe clutched her bag to her chest and waited until the truck turned onto the dirt road before turning to Clark. "Ok, now that you got rid of them, I assume you or 'someone'," she said making air quotes with one hand, "will be checking out the underground hideout presently."

Determination flashed in his brown eyes. "I'll get in," he promised. "In the mean time, you should go find Clark."

"You read my mind. Where is he?"

"Over by that stripped tent, down at the end. Confirm, if you can, that we've got the right suspects." He started backing away, eager to get to Lois. "Oh, and I think the money guy might have just shown up. If I don't find Lois on my own, he'll be the one that leads us to her. Watch him."

"Got it. Good Luck." Chloe slung the now very heavy (laptops weren't exactly lightweight in this universe) bag over her shoulder, turned and in her eagerness to get to Clark, started jogging lightly in the opposite direction unmindful of the odd looks her display of energy generated.

Down at the other end of the threshing show grounds, Clark waited outside of the tent, seemingly intent on examining the 1902 Case Steam Traction engine. Every ten seconds or so he glanced at the side of the tent and used his x-ray vision to verify the three suspects hadn't moved. They'd stayed put since he had relieved Kent. Part of him wished they would try to leave or cause trouble.

Bluntly put, he wanted some reason to cause them pain. These were the men who casually decided Chloe should die. Hell, they were smugly thinking they'd completed their mission and were now awaiting their reward for killing her.

Was imprisonment enough of a punishment?

With his abilities he could easily…no, no, no. He couldn't go down that path. As much as he wanted them to suffer, as much as his clenched fists wanted to inflict retribution and repay them bruise by bruise for the terror Chloe faced, he knew she wouldn't want him to cross that line between enforcing the law and being the ultimate judge.

Not that his fiery reporter was a pacifist, no, by no means. She probably wouldn't mind at all if he knocked them around, but deep inside, Clark feared a part of him that didn't want to stop at just roughing them up. Something inside him had already tried them, judged them, and wanted to deliver a sentence as final as the one they plotted for Chloe.

Clark looked down and found his fists clenched, his knuckles white. He hadn't felt this burning need for vengeance since shortly after his father's death when all his grief and guilt pushed him closer than he'd ever been to the edge. Chloe tried then to warn him and pull him back from that darkness and ultimately, his parent's teachings gave him the strength not to cross that line. This time though, his father's voice was silent.

The love between his parents had been fierce and his father would have died protecting his mother. His father would understand Clark's need to ensure Chloe was safe. He'd understand not wanting to let those responsible walk away unscathed. He'd understand that intrinsically, some individuals didn't deserve to…

"Clark!"

He whipped his head over his shoulder and saw Chloe bounding toward him holding tightly the straps of her bag to keep it from sliding off her shoulder. Their eyes met and her beautiful smile brightened. Joy and light welled up inside his chest, leaving no room for darkness. He couldn't taint the happiness she brought to his life with thoughts of destruction. His fists unclenched and he felt a tension he hadn't recognized ebb away.

He turned to face her fully and never taking his eyes off her, watched as she came to him. He felt a smile tug at he corner of his lips and take control until he was grinning just as broadly as she and for no other reason than he was glad to have her near.

How had he not recognized this feeling for what it really was?

She stopped a few feet in front of him, her skin glistening from her brief exertion in the heated summer evening. A loch of hair fell forward over her sparkling, laughing eyes and Clark stepped closer, cutting their distance by half. He brushed the strands off her forehead, his fingertips floating over her skin.

Chloe went still when his hand grazed her temple and slid down the side of her face. If asked, she'd blame her sudden breathlessness on her short sprint, but she knew the true reason. Never had she seen anything more wondrous than the soul-revealing smile on Clark's face, a smile meant exclusively for her.

He took one of her hands still clenched around her shoulder bag strap, loosened her grip, and laced his fingers through hers. "Chloe I…"

Chloe gasped, her eyes no longer focused on Clark, and pulled away to duck behind the tractor's large red wheel. "That's him! That's Shark!"


	28. Reunion

_Author's note: I got it up in a week! I was hoping for a another record breaker, but considering I suffered 4 days of writers block, I'm pretty happy that this chapter suddenly came flowing out, and its's kind of long too! I'm feeling inspired, look for another chapter within the week._

Chloe gasped and pulled away from Clark to duck behind the tractor's six foot high, red rimmed wheel. "That's him! That's Shark!" She hissed as three men from the refreshment tent filed past, trailing after a nondescript man in an ill-fitting dark suit. Clark moved to stand protectively behind Chloe.

He lowered his voice and asked, "Do you recognize the others?"

"The one right behind Shark, he was on the roof too. The red head, that could be Blue I guess, and the one who looks like an FBI cliché must be the money guy."

"The money guy?"

"Kent said something about the money guy arriving." She snorted and added contemptuously, "Time for them to get their thirty pieces of silver." Chloe straightened up. "We should follow them."

Clark held her back. "Wait a second; let them get further ahead." He watched the group pass a row of green and yellow John Deere tractors before letting go of her arm and starting after them. "Ok, stay behind me; we don't want them to see you."

"Believe me," she began with a hint of exasperation, "I'm very aware that my sudden resurrection would attract unwanted attention."

Clark glanced apologetically over his shoulder. She raised an eyebrow in his direction. "Sorry, I just don't want to take any chances." He shrugged. "I only got you back this morning. I can't risk losing you." Chloe's face softened.

"Clark, you know I'm not going to take any unnecessary risks."

He studied her face, noting the worry in her eyes before nodding. Chloe sighed in relief, but then he smirked. "Won't take any _unnecessary_ risks, huh? Meaning you'll just take the _necessary_ ones. Why don't I find that comforting?"

Chloe laughed and looped her arm around Clark's, amazed that in the midst of all the melodrama she could still find rushes of happiness. More amazing was the very reason that she _was_ feeling happy and hopeful had everything to do with daring to take a chance and gambling with her future.

At this point, she was rolling the dice and relying on faith and luck to see both she and Clark home. They might still get there, but even if they didn't, she'd do it all over again. As they kept walking, Chloe leaned into his side, rested her head briefly against his shoulder and whispered, "Some risks are worth it."

Her own boldness shocked her just a little bit and she hurried to change the subject before he could reply. "I think I know where they're headed."

She filled him in on the location of the underground silo and that Kent sent Perry and Jimmy to contact the authorities. "Oh, that reminds me." Chloe flipped open a side pocket of her satchel and pulled out two laminated cards, handing one to Clark.

His face smiled back at him, virtually the same picture used on his Planet id card, but with a change to the color of his shirt. He flipped it over, looked at the writing on the back, and then reexamined the front. "Chloe, this looks like a valid driver's license."

Chloe smiled, "It's suppose to," She said and pointed to the name on his license, "Cal Sullivan of Chicago."

"But where, "he glanced at her matching license and read, "Chloe of Lincoln Park Illinois, did they come from?"

"Jimmy left the laminator unattended and I had this program along and so with a few changes, presto, instant identification. I thought they might come in handy should the police get involved."

Clark nodded, "Probably save some awkward questions. Why Chicago?"

"No reason. I just picked a big city rather than Smallville should they try to verify our information. It's a lot easier to go unnoticed in the city."

"They look perfect," he said pocketing the card. He hesitated for a moment, considering whether he wanted to ask how long they were going to need the ID's. Instead, he asked, "Where is Kent?"

Chloe was happy not to delve into the odds of their return right then; she'd worry about Lois first. "Alternate you or," she dropped her voice to near inaudible levels, "_his_ alter ego, was planning on going underground. There's a passage in the garage."

"You really think Lois is here?"

"Makes sense, it's too much of a coincidence that this is where Shark, Blue, and what's his name planned to meet."

"Joe," Clark supplied absently. She blinked and gave him a puzzled look, so he explained, "I overheard them, you know with my…"

Chloe shook her head and interrupted. "No, no it's not that I wonder how you found out, it's just I guess I expected something a bit more interesting after a Shark and a Blue."

Clark shrugged and quipped, "I guess except for moonlighting as a kidnapper and thug for hire, he's just a regular Joe." Chloe bumped him lightly with her hip.

"Do not start with the bad puns. Anyway, toss into the mix a semi-secret, lead lined, underground lair and, yep I think Lois is here." They lapsed into silence. Clark kept a steady eye on the group they were following. The heat of the day seemed to affect how fast Shark's gang crossed the show grounds and the sedate pace made not catching up to them the hard part.

"You know," Clark began, "if _you-know-who_ is sneaking into the underground lair, maybe letting this group interrupt wouldn't be a good idea."

Chloe cocked her head and looked up at him in gleeful anticipation. "What did you have in mind?"

* * *

William Wallace Webster Walldecker was whimpering, but at least he wasn't weeping or wantonly wailing. "Wonder when he would?" Whispered the whimsical writer in Lois's subconscious.

Ok, Lois acknowledged to herself, the stress of the week was finally taking its toll on her mental health. Their captor leveling his gun and taking aim at Walldecker wasn't improving her sanity either.

"Wait!" She cried. "This isn't necessary!"

"He should never have lied to me." The gun stayed centered on the quivering man on his knees who, despite his fear, still cleared his throat and scrunched up his face to disagree.

He tentatively raised his hand and corrected him. "Technically I didn't lie to you. I only lied to my publisher."

"Quiet!"

"Surely he's more valuable to you alive than dead." Lois argued. "With him alive, you have two hostages."

"Who'd care if I killed him? That crazy sister of his? She wouldn't even know he was gone."

"I care. Superman would care," insisted Lois.

"He would?" Questioned the man with the gun.

"He would?" Echoed Walldecker.

"Yes, yes he would. They…they use to work together, kind of, and Superman has never forgotten William's time as Resplendent Man and the help he gave to people."

Emboldened by her words, William chimed in, "Yeah, and if you shot me, you'd make a mess all over the carpet and it must be really hard to get a good carpet and upholstery cleaner down in a secret hideout. I know the maid service certainly has suffered." Lois glared at him to be quiet.

"So as I was saying, killing William wouldn't be logical. You're a businessman…of sorts. You don't destroy an asset willy-nilly."

The man holding the gun relaxed the tension on the trigger and lowered his aim. "You're right."

"Yes, of course. You're a logical businessman who has to protect his assets and…"

"No, not you Ms. Lane. I was agreeing with William here. The mess would be too much to clean up if I shot him in the living quarters. Get up." He gestured with his gun hand and the petite man scrambled to his feet, relief plastered on his face.

"Oh, thank you, thank you Mr. Mako. You are making the right decision."

"Yes, I think so too. The levels surrounding the old missile shaft have cement floors, much easier to clean up." William whimpered again.

Lois tensed with anticipation. The man Walldecker labeled as Mr. Mako would have a hard time watching both of them as they moved to the new area. This might be her opening.

She watched with curiosity as Mako backed cautiously toward the spiral staircase in the middle of the room. He was careful never to take his eyes or gun off them. When he was next to the stairs, he called out loudly, "Sanderson, quit your lurking and make yourself useful."

Lois felt a wave of disappointment. Two captors would be more difficult to overcome. Mako called out again and this time something about the name sounded familiar.

Sanderson, Sanderson, Lois tuned the name over in her mind. "Not Harold E. Sanderson, the CFO of CostMart?" Mako's eyes widened, confirming her guess. "I'm surprised, even the Planet's editor thought Harold E. Sanderson, as the public face of CostMart, had gone legit. This will greatly disappoint the shareholders."

Mako narrowed his eyes again and smiled, if you could call the calculated way he drew back his lips and bared his teeth smiling. "No need to be concerned about our bottom line, you won't get the opportunity to print that little tidbit in the Daily Planet. Sanderson! Get up here!" Still, no one appeared or responded.

"Maybe he went to one of the laboratories," William offered helpfully.

A frown settled on Lois's forehead. "One of the laboratories? There's more than just yours?"

"Oh yes, there are two besides mine and while mine was mainly for show," Lois lifted her eyebrow in question and William sighed, "Ok, mine was wholly for show, but the other two were in use."

"Sanderson!" Mako was now backing toward the door leading to the main hallway.

Lois lowered her voice and asked William, "What was being done in those labs?"

Walldecker held up his hands, extending a new finger and tapping it with his other hand's index finger each time he revealed a detail. "One was turned into a replica command center, much like what use to be here I expect. The other one is where they put the components together. You know, wires, cables, circuit boards, and the such."

"Stop talking!" Mako shouted from across the room. His eyes darted nervously between them and he snuck a peek out in the hallway. His growing agitation and distraction encouraged Lois.

She took a step forward just to see if Mako was paying attention. Nothing happened, so she took another step in his direction. This time the gun sprang up and he refocused his attention. Lois intently examined the curved ceiling and the recessed lighting that dispersed the warm even glow in the room. What he saw must have convinced Mako that she wasn't a threat. He returned to calling his accomplice, desperation slipping into his cry. "SANDERSON!"

"I really don't think he's coming Mr. Mako," whined William, tacking on a "sir," when Mako glared at him and brandishing his gun, advanced on them quickly.

Walldecker tried to back away, but instead of shooting him, Mako merely grabbed his arm and hauled him toward the bathroom. "Get in there, both of you."

When they didn't move fast enough to suit him, he shoved Lois forward, causing her to stumble into Walldecker. "Ow!"

"I'll be back and don't try anything," his eyes flickered over the room, "tile is even easier to clean up than cement." He shut the door and they heard a heavy scraping sound, he was pushing something in front of the door. Lois pressed her ear against the panel, trying to make out some clue as to what was happening.

"I think he's gone for now." She grasped the handle on the sliding door and tried to open it. "He must have jammed it from the outside"

"But if he jammed it from the outside, why did he drag something in front of the door?"

Lois grabbed him by the shoulders, "Walldecker, you're brilliant!"

"I am?"

"Mako must know the door won't hold. Here, help me pull."

* * *

Kent hid in the shadowy corner of the garage observing a silver-haired man in an expensive three-piece suit climb as elegantly as possible out of the escape hatch. Close up, Kent recognized him as the head financial officer at CostMart. A man who had built up a formidable reputation for integrity since Bill Church left him in control of the company.

Sanderson insisted Bill Church had come back from jail a reformed man and that his trip back to the big house was nothing but a frame job and a smear campaign. Clark was inclined to believe him this time around and when Mindy Church, Bill Church's much younger trophy wife, started calling the shots at Intergang, his suspicions were confirmed. Sanderson refused to buckle under presure and said he would run CostMart like his oldest friend would have wanted.

CostMart had operated since with an openness and accountability unheard of in the world of mega corporations and had silenced almost all its critics. Mindy Church's incarceration finally severed CostMart's last direct link to Intergang.

Why would Sanderson be involved with Lois's kidnapping? With Lois gone, Intergang would be halfway to clearing Mindy Church of the indictment and clearing Mindy Church of charges would give her back some control of the superstore, that last thing Sanderson would want. Something suspicious was going on, but rather than follow him when he slipped out the door, Clark followed his heart and gut and went after Lois.

He didn't know what he was walking into, so he didn't change into Superman. As before, he was concerned one look at his red cape could provoke an extreme reaction. Since he would be invulnerable, the target would be Lois. As the bespectacled reporter, he wasn't likely to intimidate or make anyone trigger happy.

He slid down the ladder and at the bottom, heard someone calling for Sanderson. Clark discreetly pushed his glasses down until they sat low on his nose, attempting to scan the area. Lead lined every wall, floor, and ceiling. He switched senses and amplified his hearing. Three heartbeats, besides his, were in the vicinity.

Calling on Clark's example from when he'd rescued Chloe earlier in the day, Kent analyzed the hearts' rhythms. Did one belong to Lois?

He closed his eyes and recreated a memory of holding Lois in his arms at night. He imagined it was 3 am, a time of stillness and truth, and an hour that had haunted him this past week. Optimism was hard to come by for anyone at 3 am, a time when even the memory of the sun's warmth seemed too far in the past and too far in the future to provide any comfort.

During his late teens and early adult life, he dreaded waking at 3 am. Back then, every worry, fear, and disappointment seemed greater in the small hours of the morning.

By contrast, since he'd been with Lois, he regretted and counted the night wasted if he did not wake at least once in the middle of the night to simply drink in his happiness. He reveled in the joy of what their future could bring and relished his contentment of the present.

When Lois was with him, he'd savor every detail: her warmth, her softness, the feel of her light breath against his skin, the thrum of blood singing through her veins, the steady throb of her heart beating against his. He concentrated on remembering her heartbeat and …there.

Lois was close by, one level up, and while her pulse was slightly raised, it didn't indicate any imminent threat. A second heart beat nearby in a similar manner. Whoever that person was, they didn't inspire any great nervousness in Lois. Maybe a fellow captive?

He crept into the hallway, deciding to remove the threat of the third heartbeat. To the right was the flight of stairs that led up to the blast doors. The left passageway opened up to the silo part of the structure. He heard the same voice from before call out.

"Goddamn it, Sanderson! Where the hell are you?"

The voice originated from a room overlooking the 80-foot shaft. Clark heard feet shuffle nervously on the cement floor. "Don't make me do it." A series of clicks followed the odd warning. "I swear you are forcing my hand. This is your fault!"

Sanderson's anxiety causing absence manifested in the shouting man's increasingly labored breathing and rapid pulse rate. Clark had no trouble tracking him as he left the room and headed back to the two story living area.

Clark waited around the corner and when the stocky man came into view, he tapped him on the temple and relieved him of his gun as he fell. He probably was going to be out for a while.

Kent scanned for hidden cameras, found none; and so, moving at super speed, trussed his quarry up in seconds, leaving him in the master bedroom. Now he was positive this half of the three-piece suit brigade wouldn't be a problem.

He raced up the spiral staircase in the middle of the room to the upper level. The round room was empty. No one stood in the kitchen or dining area, no one sat in the living area, but the couch was twisted so it rested oddly in front of a sliding door. His heart clenched when he recognized the sound of Lois's voice on the other side of the door.

"Again, and this time put some oomph into it. On the count of three: one, two," Clark leaned over the couch and removed a wedge stuck in the sliding track of the door, the back of the couch was helping to hold it in place, "three. Pull!"

The sliding panel zipped open easily, smacking against the stopper recessed in the wall with a loud crack. "We did it! We…" Looking past the bathroom's opening, Lois's jaw dropped. She stuttered, "Cla, Cla, Clark?"

Lights, hidden behind stacks of glass blocks, backlit Lois's silhouette, making her appear almost celestial. They both remained frozen for a moment, overwhelmed with feelings. Then Lois clambered over the back of the couch squealing with delight and catapulted herself into his arms. Clark caught her securely and twirled her around.

"Clark! It's you! You're here! Oh, Clark, Clark," she wrapped her arms around his neck and peppered his face with kisses, "I missed you so much."

He held her firmly by the waist, studying every inch, both to be certain she was unharmed and to convince a weeks worth of 3 ams that she truly was back where she belonged: in his arms, her breath on his skin, her heart beating against his. He brushed a strand of hair off her forehead and croaked, "Are you alright?" Too emotional to speak above a whisper.

Tears streamed down her face even as she laughed and hugged him again. "Am I alright? I'm splendid. I'm perfect. I'm glorious now that you're here." Clark held her tighter and buried a hand in her silky hair at the base of her neck. She needed no urging to meet his hungry kiss. His lips told her of his fears, his needs, his hopes, and above all, his love.

"Ahem. Excuse me. I said ahem!"

Reluctantly, they parted and Clark looked for the first time at who had been trapped with his wife. The little man stood with his arms crossed tapping his toe. "Are you finished yet? Do you think we could get out of here before the crazy man with the gun comes back or would you like a little more time to play kissy-face?"

Lois rolled her eyes but added, "Mako, that's the armed mad man's name, might have an accomplice too, though he did seem to be having difficulty finding him." She cocked her head to the side and asked, "How did you find me?"

"I have Mako tied up downstairs and I saw Sanderson go above ground and leave," he explained and then paused and pointed to Walldecker. "Why is the former Resplendent Man here?"

Lois dismissed his question with a wave of her hand. "Long, weird story." She griped the front of his flannel shirt and begged, "Please! How did you find me? Tell me you got to Chloe in time."

Clark wiped away a tear that still lingered on her cheek. "Chloe is fine." Lois slumped against him in relief. He wrapped his arms around her again, stoking her back. "Because of Chloe, I was able to find you. She overheard her captors talking and pieced together the location of this hidden missile site. Good thing that girl is as tenacious as you, with all the lead shielding on this structure, not even Superman could have spotted it."

Lois wallowed in his arms a moment longer and then lifted her head. "Let's go home."

"About time," muttered Walldecker.

They walked to the hallway, Clark not letting Lois move from his side, and up the carpeted flight of stairs. The blast doors at the top were closed and the lock engaged.

Walldecker sighed and put his hands back on his hips. "See, this is why I was hoping for Superman to rescue you Ms. Lane," he glanced at Kent, "no offense. We need Superman's strength or the code to the open this door and with only your husband riding as Calvary, we have neither."

Lois rolled her eyes again. Clark spoke patiently, "Let me give it a try, I have an idea about the code." Clark caught Lois's eye and she moved to distract the ungrateful wretch while Clark's fingers flew over the keypad trying innumerable combinations. In a few seconds, the light turned green and the lock disengaged.

Clark pulled the thick blast door back. Lois gasped, Walldecker whimpered, and Clark blinked. They were staring down the business end of a dozen guns trained on them at point blank range.

_Author's note: Nothing is ever too easy! See ya soon!_


	29. Explanations

Clark pulled back the thick blast door to reveal a dozen or more men crowded in front of the entrance, their guns trained on them from all angles. Most wore blue jackets with three yellow letters emblazoned on the front and back. Clark remained calm, but ready to act.

"FBI! Put your hands up where we can see them!" One of the gun wielding men hesitated, "Kent?" He lowered his weapon and stepped forward. "Clark Kent, what are you doing here?" Clark's eyes slid to Lois. The man shook his head. "Stupid question. How did you get in here?"

"Agent Kelly." He recognized the speaker as one of his contacts at the Federal Bureau of Investigations. They'd crossed paths a few times when he and Lois's investigations had coincided with Federal interests. Keeping his hands slightly raised, Clark stepped forward. "There's an access point in the garage area."

The FBI field agent pointed at two men. "Go secure that exit." Agent Kelly returned his gun to the holster at his side. Lois and Clark lowered their hands. "Anyone else down there?"

"I left a man by the name of Mako tied up on the lower level. His associate, Sanderson slipped out just before I went down," he answered evenly.

"Sanderson is working with us. He slipped out to alert our team." The sandy haired agent shook his head again. "I don't know if you make the job easier or more complicated Kent." He turned to the remaining group, still unflinchingly aiming their weapons. "Parkman and Richter, stay with me. Jenkins, take the rest of the team and secure the lower level. I'll vouch for Kent and Lane." He motioned at Walldecker, who still had his hands so far up in the air that his light blue, button down, dress shirt pulled out of the waist of his tan pants. "What about this guy?"

Lois answered waving her hand through the air in dismissal. "He's harmless. Mostly," she amended, thinking of the trouble he'd dragged her into. "Mako, who apparently has recently risen in the ranks of Intergang's new leadership, kidnapped Walldecker here," William, his hands still high in the air, waggled a couple fingers and smiled wanly, "with the crazed notion of getting him to make Intergang henchmen into super powered scoundrels."

Clark scowled incredulously, "What?"

The agent merely looked curious. "He really believed someone could do that?"

William nodded, "I have a very good publicist." He winced at the glare Lois shot his direction. "Had. I _had_ a very good publicist. I'm all done with that."

Agent Kelly nodded thoughtfully, but before he could speak, one of the other agents approached. "Excuse me for a moment." He took a couple steps away to conference with someone who had just entered the building. Lois edged a couple steps closer and both she and Clark listened in.

A man dressed in jeans and flannel stammered, "Ah, we've got a situation pertaining to the pick up of Mako's associates."

"What's going on?"

"Seems a couple of good citizens took it upon themselves to detain our suspects prior to our arrival on scene."

"So." Agent Kelly inquired. "What's the problem?"

The agent tugged at his collar nervously. "They rounded up Agent Jarvis as well and neither seems keen on letting any of them go, especially the guy. Insists on waiting for the police, something about how easy fake ID is to come by."

Agent Kelly muttered under his breath, "Damn conspiracy theorists."

"Seeing as Shark took one look at this guy's girlfriend and went nuts, I'm not inclined to blame them for being overly cautious. I wasn't too far away when I saw the whole thing happen. Gerald Mako, aka Shark, took off like a maniac, screaming prophecies of dismemberment. His gang went along to help, just as agitated, with Jarvis trailing behind. I thought we were about to witness murder in the 1st degree when out popped the boyfriend from behind a tractor."

The agent chuckled. "He stretched out an arm and clotheslined Shark and that behemoth went down hard, but his associates were close on his heels."

"The skinny, weaselly one pulled a gun, but the girlfriend swung the bag she was carrying and knocked it out of his hand. Then she wound up again and walloped him across the chest hard enough to cause him to stagger back. He knocked himself out on the grill of the tractor. The third member of Shark's squad tried to turn and flee but boyfriend snagged him by the collar and hooked him on the same piece of equipment."

Kelly looked pained as he asked, "How did Jarvis get caught up in this?"

"I guess when Jarvis saw that one guy pull his gun, Jarvis pulled out his gun and well, his skidded into the group, weapon drawn and since we had him meet with them, posing as the money guy, the couple had previously seen him hanging out with Shark. So, you know, guilt by association."

Agent Kelly glanced around and lowered his voice. "Are you telling me that Jarvis had his weapon drawn and he still managed to be caught by a pair of civilians armed with only a purse?" The agent hung his head and didn't reply.

Clark stepped in, hiding a smile, "Agent Kelly, I believe I'm acquainted with this couple you're talking about."

Kelly set his jaw at an angle and sighed, "Of course you are." He pointed at the two agents that earlier had remained with him. "Parkman, Richter, take Walldecker here and get his story. I'll take Lane and Kent to straighten out this other mess. Contact me via the radio if I'm needed."

Halfway across the show grounds, they saw a crowd gathering. Agent Kelly flashed his badge and worked them past the mass of people. At the center of the throng, four individuals sprawled on the ground with their hands and feet bound by baling twine. Shark was cursing and spewing abuse until a craggy farmer removed a sweaty red bandana from round his neck and stuffed it into his mouth. A small round of cheers went through the crowd.

Agent Kelly held his badge up in the air. "Ok, alright, break it up. Move on. We'll take it from here." A tall youth headed over to challenge him, but the stern look on his face morphed into a grin when he caught sight of Kent and Lane. A pretty and intense blond women looked up from her notebook, abandoned the agent she had been grilling, and rushed to meet Lane halfway.

"Chloe!" The two women embraced as if they were long lost sisters. Agent Kelly caught only snatches of their bubbling exchange. Words like "kidnapped", "dead", "Superman", and "Clark" stood out. The tall youth stood next to Kent and they both looked on, watching with undisguised affection. Kelly motioned his men to free Jarvis and remove the prisoners.

Eventually the tall youth approached and hugged Lois too. A moment later, a grizzled haired man hailed her as he and a younger man pushed through the crowd. Agent Kelly recognized the older man as the editor of the Daily Planet. He took his turn greeting Lane, wrapping her in a bear hug.

"Mr. White, how did you end up contacting the FBI?" Chloe asked after he released her.

Perry laughed, "Olsen and I didn't get a mile down the road before we ran smack dab into a good old fashioned road block. They must have practically set up the barricades right behind us the first time we came through. I flagged down one of the officers and told them what was going on, but they already knew about Shark, his cohorts, and about Lois being held somewhere on the Tractor and Threshing Show grounds."

Clark pushed his glasses up and turned to accuse Agent Kelly. "You knew that Lois was being held prisoner and yet you were planning on going in guns blazing? Mako could have panicked and killed her. What the hell were you thinking?"

Perry laid a hand on his shoulder, "Easy Kent, it all worked out fine in the end, no harm came to Lois."

"Maybe that's because Clark showed up before the FBI," Lois added caustically.

"We had reason to believe we didn't have time for subtlety," Kelly said stiffly.

"Why's that?" Chloe asked.

Kelly saw no accusation in her eyes, just curiosity. It occurred to him he was going have to give a statement or explanation of some kind to the press; no way to avoid that with half the staff of the Daily Planet involved. Kent and Lane weren't looking too sympathetic. He turned to Mr. White and pointed at Chloe who was still holding her notepad and jotting down notes, "Is she working for you?"

White hesitated, rubbing his jaw and sputtering until he caught sight of Lois fervently nodding her head. He could guess just as clearly as Lane that Agent Kelly was looking to talk on the record. He made a quick decision, "She is now."

Agent Kelly grasped her upper arm and would have directed her to a more private spot to talk when the man who'd bested his agent stepped in their path and crossed his arms. Ah, the overprotective boyfriend. Chloe disengaged his grip and made a suggestion. "I'll write your story, but why don't you just tell us all what's going on. I think everyone involved deserves to know."

He saw the resolute steel in the boyfriend's gaze. "Fine," he conceded and answered her earlier question. "We were in a hurry because Sanderson reported Mako was on the verge of engaging his secret weapon."

"What kind of weapon?"

"We didn't know exactly, maybe it was nothing more than what that delusion Walldecker was selling."

"Wait, wait," Perry held up his hand. "I'm already lost. Who's Mako?"

Jimmy chimed in, "Who's Sanderson?"

Chloe shrugged and asked, "Who's Walldecker?"

"Look, why don't I start at the beginning. Louis Mako, Shark's older brother, was a lower level associate at Intergang who came up with a scheme to set up Mindy Church with help from Harold E Sanderson, the chief financial officer at CostMart. Thing is, Sanderson wanted both Mindy and any future Intergang leader gone so he cut a deal with the FBI."

Chloe jotted down a few notes and nodded encouragingly.

"After Mako bragged about having several bolt holes no one would ever find, plus a secret weapon up his sleeve, the FBI decided to wait until Sanderson gained Mako's trust to the point where he would lead Sanderson to his hideout where he controlled the weapon."

Lois jumped into the narrative. "In the meantime, Mako heard about Walldecker and his ridiculous claim to possess the ability to make ordinary people into super powered beings. He completely bought into it and scooped up Walldecker. William didn't dare disappoint Mako and so he insisted on having me delivered to him as payment for his services, never thinking Mako would succeed in the kidnapping. Walldecker figured the aborted attempt would result in us investigating and eventually in his rescue."

Kelly continued his tale, "Today, Mako called Sanderson, high on the success of his kidnapping of Ms. Lane. We didn't know why he wanted her, but," he paused and grinned, "Ms. Lane has a habit of finding trouble so we weren't too surprised. Sanderson went with Mako to where Lane was being stashed and at the first opportunity, he contacted the FBI."

Kent frowned, "So cue the unchecked show of power. From what Lois and Walldecker told me, Mako was half-unhinged already. You would have gotten her killed," he repeated.

Chloe cocked her head to the side. "I gather that Lois's rescue was of secondary importance to securing the base and his supposed secret weapons." Kelly noted a note of censure in her voice this time.

"We were not aware of Mako's delusions at the time and had to take action for what we deemed a credible and immediate threat. He told Sanderson that he was going to use his secret weapon to force Metropolis and New York to their knees simultaneously."

Lois thought for a moment. "William did say Mako wanted him to transform several cohorts tonight, kind of a big finale' to punctuate his taking control of Intergang." She shook her head, "But I don't get where the extra labs come in."

"What labs?" Chloe asked.

"Walldecker said two labs besides his pretend one were in use. One was being converted into a replica of the old control center for the missile silo and one was where the pieces were being reassembled." Lois smiled, but was only half joking when she asked, "Clark, you didn't perhaps fail to notice a 70 foot missile still down there?"

Agent Kelly rolled his eyes. "My men have the area secured. There hasn't been a weapon of any kind down there for fifty years, not since it was decommissioned."

Chloe went pale and grabbed the arm of 'Cal' for support. "What is it?" He asked urgently.

"Dozens of the same kind of facility were built all around the same time and most were decommissioned shortly after. Most, but not all."

Clark pushed up his glasses. "What are you thinking?"

"I'm not sure, but I'd guess that at least two or three are still in the area, fully equipped with armed rocket. According to web site where I found the blueprint for the silo, those facilities barely have any level of security. They rely on alarms and heavy doors rather than personnel to keep the place secure. What if Mako planned on taking control of those facilities?"

Agent Kelly shook his head. "How do you know of those facilities? What kind of web site were you looking at?" His tirade was interrupted by the squawk of his radio. He removed it from his belt and depressed a button. "Agent Kelly here."

A disembodied voice answered. "Sir, we have a major problem. Seems Mako somehow has activated the launch of two nearby armed missiles. We've confirmed their flight plan, one's headed to Metropolis and the other is on its way to New York." Those listening looked grimly around at the faces in their circle. "Sir, the Airforce can't scramble their fighters in time. Kent's come through before. Does he have any way of contacting Superman?"

_Author's note: Quick turn around and explanations of oddly convoluted story lines, what more could you ask for? Oh, you wanted what? Well, maybe you'll get that in the next chapter._


	30. Too Late?

_Author's note: This chapter was a long time coming, but it's a long one and I hope worth the wait. Please let me know what you think of it. Feedback motivates quicker turn around for the next chapter, too._

"Sir," the voice through Agent Kelly's radio said. "The Air Force can't scramble their fighters in time. Kent's come through before. Does he have any way of contacting Superman?"

Perry jumped in, not waiting for Agent Kelly. "Kent, you were going to try and contact Superman before coming down to this little shindig. Is he still on his way?" He asked.

"Yes," Kent answered straightening his shoulders and nudging back his glasses. "But maybe there's something I can do to speed that along." Agent Kelly relayed what was happening to the control.

"I'll come with you," volunteered Clark. Kent hesitated, but shook his head.

"No, stay here, I've got this covered." Kent turned and jogged toward the parking lot leaving Clark frowning at his back.

Perry clapped him on the back. "Good try, but Kent's not going to give away a trade secret, not even to a relative." He patted him on the back once more and went to direct Olsen. "Jimmy!" He bellowed. "Get out your camera and get some background shots over by the lake."

A moment later, amid excited cries from the large crowds still milling amongst the tractors, Superman descended from the sky. Agent Kelly immediately radioed ahead his arrival.

The man in blue came to rest and crossed his arms formally. "Ladies, gentleman," he inclined his head toward Lois, Chloe, Clark, and Agent Kelly. "Can I be of any service?"

"Yes, come with me." Agent Kelly led Superman away toward the control center, giving him details of the situation along the way. Clark watched them go, opening and closing his hands mindlessly at his sides; feeling gutted, helpless and powerless. Sitting back and letting someone else do the work felt wrong and unnatural. He wasn't destined for the sidelines.

Feeling a light touch on his hand, he looked down into Chloe's upturned face. "It's hard being the one waiting," she said solemnly.

Clark sighed, letting go most of his building tension. "I had no idea how hard." Her hand still brushed against his and before she could pull back, he curled his fingers around hers and started to run his thumb across her knuckles. Chloe blinked rapidly and for a fleeting moment, some emotion he could not put a name to passed over her face before an understanding smile resettled on her features.

"Waiting isn't the only thing though," he said. "It's more than that." His forehead creased under the weight of his concern. "How is he going to handle two missiles rocketing to two separate cities?"

Lois stepped forward and being an old hand at the waiting game too, laid a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. "New York and Metropolis are both on the east coast and only a few hundred miles apart. If he had any doubts, he would have asked for help just like he did with those workers trapped in the tunnels." Clark nodded saying nothing, but continuing to stroke Chloe's hand.

Leaving the situation to someone else felt abnormal, but he told himself he wasn't in a normal situation. Clark knew if Kent thought he could handle the bombs on his own, then he could handle them. Clark trusted his judgment and everything he read and learned about Superman only supported that.

He should take comfort from the rational argument, from being logical, reasonable, and sensible even, but really more than anything else, he found solace from the quiet support and understanding Chloe had instantly offered. She seemed to know what he felt almost before he did, but that didn't surprise him anymore.

Chloe's understanding and unconditional acceptance of everything that made him who he was, even accepting the parts she didn't fully understand, had been a big part of what let him finally fully embrace his abilities.

Her support, steady encouragement, and occasional kick in the pants aided in bringing him to this point where now it felt alien to not use the powers that would identify him as a being from another planet.

Out of the corner of his eye, a blue and red streak shot to the sky and vanished ahead of a sonic boom. Well, _he_ saw the streak of color. Lois and Chloe only heard the shock waves crashing through the accelerated air.

Lois shaded her eyes and looked toward the horizon. "And he's off," she whispered with pride and a touch of concern. She glanced over at Clark and saw worry still lingering on his face. She wagged a finger in his direction. "You know, it's probably in your best interests to let him handle this one alone. The sunglasses and hooded sweatshirt worked last time, but," she pointed to his plaid, long-sleeved shirt and smiled, "flannel is not a very effective disguise."

Chloe's laughter bubbled up and Clark found himself smiling even while he shook his head, "Disguise isn't an issue this time around."

"It's always important," Lois insisted, dropping into lecture mode. "You may think no one will see you, but you never know when someone is watching and protecting your true identity is vital if you want any kind of personal life, believe me, I know."

"I believe you; I only meant that I wouldn't be wearing flannel for a disguise."

Lois tilted her head back and studied him with dawning comprehension. "Did Martha break out her sewing machine?"

"Sewing machine?" Chloe echoed, puzzled. Lois turned to explain.

"Martha Kent made and designed Superman's suit. Then later, remember I told you about my stint with powers?"

Chloe smirked, "Ultra Women, right?"

"Right," she agreed, ignoring the smirk. "Martha put together that outfit too, though," she conceded, "I never was too thrilled about pink and aqua."

Chloe laughed again. "That, I would have loved to see and who knows what she would have planned for Clark. Too bad the Kents are still back in Kansas."

"Not anymore." Clark muttered.

Surprised, Chloe angled her neck up to see Clark's face. "What? When?"

"They just flew in. We found them waiting at the townhouse when we went back to change clothes."

Lois's eyes sparkled. "I knew it! She made you a costume didn't she?" She asked eagerly.

A hint of color tinged his cheeks. "Are you blushing Clark Kent?" Chloe asked grinning. His color deepened.

Lois snickered, "I take that as a yes."

"What's wrong," Chloe teased with affected innocence, "did Mrs. Kent use the leftover material from Ultra Women?" Lois burst out laughing.

"No," he answered, feeling a bit disgruntled and ganged up on. "It's black with blue trim and a matching mask. She said it's based on a Kryptonian design and that she thought the dark color might attract less attention than the blue and red."

"Then why the embarrassment?" Chloe asked, shaking her head in genuine puzzlement.

Clark cringed and ran a hand through his hair before answering sheepishly. "It's really tight, I mean _really_ tight…everywhere." Chloe clapped a hand over her mouth and her eyes grew big.

Lois happily told him what Martha had told her. "It cuts down on wind resistance."

He rolled his eyes and said sourly, "There's not that much wind resistance." Lois snickered again.

Chloe just kept staring at him with wide eyes; she wasn't laughing anymore. "Are you," she swallowed and tucked a strand of blond hair behind her ear, "…are you wearing it right now?" She asked breathlessly and stretched out her hand, leaving it hovering just above where his t-shirt tucked into his stonewashed jeans.

Without a word, Clark tugged out his blue shirt and bunched the soft cotton at his side, exposing a patch of his costume to the sunlight. The sheen on the suit rippled on his abdomen and changed with his every breath.

Chloe chewed on her lower lip, looked up and met his heavy gaze. Their eyes connected and Clark felt heat wash over him. He took her waiting hand and guided it to his side.

She held her hand steady against him, pressing lightly, flexing and testing the resiliency of his newly acquired second skin all while her hazel eyes continued to bore into his soul. As the warmth of her hand seeped into his skin, he felt branded.

Lois let her eyes bounce back and forth between them, taken aback by the sudden flare of attraction that held them shimmering in its thrall. "Whoa," she whispered under her breath and wondered if they'd resolved the status of their relationship while she'd been Resplendent Man's reluctant guest. Cleary the term 'Just Friends' couldn't apply anymore.

"Ok, earth to Clark…Chloe." She didn't get a response. "Shesh, I could be revealing the secret of the universe right now and all you two would notice is the beating of your hearts." Lois sighed and smiled mistily, "Ok, I'll admit that's a pretty good place to be, but maybe you should save the combustion until you are in setting where you can let it burn? Timing is everything…oh, no, time. The watch!"

Lois's desperate tone reached Chloe, panic flared in her eyes and she snatched her hand back as if it suddenly burned. "The Resonator Recorder!" She shouted turning her back on Clark and concentrating on Lois. "Do you have it?"

Lois rubbed her bare wrist where it had been and shook her head, "No, I didn't have it when I came to underground and I'm sorry, but I didn't look for it either. Maybe it's still there."

Chloe hitched her bag higher on her shoulder, "Come on." Chloe started trotting toward the underground facility with Lois close on her heels.

Clark stared at their retreating backs, not sure what had just happened. He could still feel the outline of Chloe's touch, though now, that place felt cold with her absence. He'd experienced an incredible sense of connection, and it hadn't been limited to physical sensations either.

He could have stayed lost in Chloe's gaze. In the depths of her eyes, all his chances, choices, and opportunities seemed unlimited, but every dream was dependent on her being at his side.

Lois said something and yanked Chloe away from him and not just out of that perfect moment. He felt a sudden emotional distance between them. Doctors Davinhoe and Hamlish had said Lois's return was tied to the Resonator Recorder, so obviously it was important. Maybe his return was tied to it too, but why wouldn't Chloe look at him or say something to him?

He took off after and quickly caught up to the two most dedicated reporters he knew, relieving Chloe of her growing burden as it started sliding off her shoulder again. She shot a tight smile of thanks his way before her eyes slid furtively away, leaving Clark even more puzzled. She was acting uncomfortable and secretive suddenly, and that made no sense. What would she be hiding?

They reached the cheery little one story house that sat on so many secrets and there, Lois demonstrated her black belt in double talk, dropping Superman and Agent Kelly's name liberally until the guard radioed and got them clearance.

The flight of stairs brought them to the hallway outside of the underground living quarters, across from where the reconstructed control center had been discovered.

Agents crowded about the entrance, leaving the doors open and letting radio static, radar beeps, and murmured speech spill out onto the landing. Clark guessed they were using the radar to track the rouge missiles' progress.

A brief cheer went round the room as they walked by and Lois, recognizing Agent Jenkins from before, grabbed his sleeve and asked what was going on.

He hesitated and then shrugged, apparently deciding his answer wasn't classified. "A minute ago the trajectory of the missile bound for New York changed direction. It began going straight up. Just now, it blinked off the screen completely. Superman must have taken care of it."

Lois smiled and nodded. "One down, one to go."

The agent glanced at a countdown clock in the control center. "Yeah, well, in just four minutes, upper Metropolis is going to be doing some unexpected urban redevelopment."

Lois lifted her chin. "He'll make it," she informed Agent Jenkins. "Now if you will excuse me," she brushed past the dour agent and called over her shoulder to Chloe, "I'm going to look for that watch," and strode across the hall as if what was happening on the radar screen was of no further concern.

Chloe glanced at Clark, but quickly lowered her eyes. "I should go help," she muttered and took a step forward only to find her path blocked by Clark."

He held out his hands in front of his chest. "Wait, what's going on Chloe?"

"You heard what the agent said." Clark shook his head and ushered her a few paces away from the noise and the action.

"That's not what I mean, and you know it." Chloe shifted uncomfortably. "Why won't you look at me? What happened? One moment we…"he sighed and changed tactics. "You are shutting me out and I don't know why. Chloe?" Clark sighed again, and frustrated by her silence, turned away.

If he was having this conversation with any other girl, he'd assume immediately that this was about that "moment" they'd shared, but he knew Chloe better than any other girl, hell, better than any other person. They needed to talk, yes; and he needed to explain what he was thinking, wanting, but this, this…withdrawal, wasn't about that "moment" or any of the other three or four earlier "moments" they'd had since her arrival this morning.

Chloe wasn't acting hurt or confused, mad, sad, scared or any of the other emotions Clark worried she might feel. She was acting…guilty.

The realization had him spinning around and grabbing hold of her hands. "Chloe, I don't know what you're thinking, but I do know that we can deal better with whatever it is together than on our own. Let me in, tell me what's wrong." He dropped one of her hands and cupped the side of her face, tilting her chin and urging her to look at him.

Suddenly her response felt urgently important; it was vital to him that she knew they were in this together, they were a team, partners, and in the end, no matter what, he would be there for her like she'd been for him countless times before.

"Chloe please," he entreated again, pleading. Maybe he was overreacting, but after finding himself cut off from all he'd held dear, whom he held the dearest had become startlingly clear. Could it possibly be that he'd figured it out to late? Was Chloe acting guilty because she no longer felt that way about him?

A wave of hopelessness began crashing over him. Too late, he was too late. Chloe swallowed and moistened her lips, getting ready to speak. He could see the apology in her eyes and his gut tightened.

"I should have said something when you rescued me this morning. It's just that I was so happy to see you, that I couldn't bring myself to tell you, to disappoint you like that."

Clark closed his eyes and clenched his jaw. He's been a fool, thinking he had all the time in the world. Playing it cool after her break up with Jimmy and counting on their history, he thought he could take it slow, not take any risks, but now, it didn't matter. The pain was just as intense.

Chloe bit her lip and looking miserable, finally confessed, "The thing is, even if we do find the resonator recorder, I don't know if I can get us home and it will be because of something I did in my desperation to get here." Her voice wavered.

Relief slammed into him so hard that he felt a weakness in his knees. He pulled Chloe into his embrace, tucking her head against his shoulder, rocking her in his arms and trying to compose himself. "I thought…was afraid that…," Clark stopped suddenly and turned his head to listen. Down the hall in the control center, someone started cursing repeatedly.

"No, no, no, no, no, that can't be possible!" Another panicked voice cried. A frown creased Chloe's brow and they untangled and dashed back down the hall to the control room. Chaos had taken over. Every phone line and radio was being utilized and panic and terror were written on more than one normally stoic face.

"It just showed up on the screen."

"That can't be real; the radar would have picked it up before."

A technician threw his glasses down in front of him and cradled his head in his hands despairingly. "It's that damn mineral. Anything flying low to the ground like it is and all we pick up is meaningless static."

"Maybe Superman…"

"He's busy and there's no time. Radar shows the missile over Metropolis is just now being turned. He won't make it back before…"

Agent Kelly set his jaw and made a decision. "Radio above, close the blast doors."

"All those people," someone wailed.

"Corpses," Agent Jenkins spat and shook his head. "They just don't know it yet."

Before Chloe could open her mouth to urge Clark to go, a gust of wind blew back her hair and she found herself holding her oversized satchel. She looked around; no one was watching. Discreetly, she tucked a trailing corner of plaid flannel deeper into the bag.

* * *

Clark sped southeast, toward the oncoming third missile, his mind racing as fast as his feet. His perception of time stretched until seconds felt like minutes. 

Back in the control room, the disjointed mix of facts and fears disgorged by the FBI agents brought to life the frantic situation and a frisson had run down Clark's spine. He'd instantly realized that only he stood between the utter devastation the missile would wreak against the thousands exposed on the grounds of the Bride Lake Tractor and Threshing show.

Young ones, old ones, families, friends, and lovers all simply spending the day at what should have been a most unlikely place to find dangerous plots and deadly consequences. Clark condemned the authorities for exposing thousands of innocent bystanders. They should have evacuated or canceled the entire event after they discovered Intergang was involved.

Less than forty seconds until impact.

Hurry.

Faster.

He pushed his limits, and was chagrined to discover the suit did indeed cut down on wind resistance.

Where was the rocket? Where? There!

Clark zoomed past, checked his speed, reversed direction and leapt at the missile. He caught hold of the tail. Intense heat blasted in his face before he crawled past.

He needed to turn the missile, adjust the trajectory up, and push it past the stratosphere into space. Clark sunk his fingers into the metal sides and heaved. Two panels ripped off in his hands and careened back into a stand of trees, felling at least one evergreen.

The course of the missile remained unchanged.

Damn, damn. He couldn't do this. He needed to fly. They needed Superman, not a flawed copy.

No, no. He was born Kal-el of Krypton. Kryptonians could fly. Kal-el had flown. Zod's vessel flew. Clark Kent of this universe flew. He could do this.

He had flown before, just today with Chloe and in the past, he'd woken up floating. Also, there had been that time years ago when Chloe had been tossed off the damm and he had to descend faster than gravity to be at the bottom waiting to catch her.

He could do this. The knowledge was inside him. Clark looked deep within and breathed, concentrating on overcoming the laws of physics. He relived the moments when he'd broken free in the past and felt a different kind of strain in his muscles. It went past his joints and tendons to permeate his veins and arteries, maybe even down to a cellular level.

He wrapped his body around the fuselage and heaved again. The missile tilted a fraction upward, but at the same time, he spotted the waters of Bride Lake sparkling ahead. The show grounds were just on the other side. Standing on that far shore, Clark could make out a figure facing him. The nose of the rocket slipped downward, reverting to its preprogrammed flight plan. He didn't have time to fight against gravity and the rocket's propulsion system. But he could use them in his favor.

Instead of wrestling the hurtling projectile up, he began forcing it sharply down. He ordered his body to fall, to seek gravity's pull. The missile dropped, cutting its altitude in half. He scooted closer to the front, nearer the warhead. He needed to radically tilt the missile, forcing the tip to plunge into the deep water of Bride Lake. At this speed, the water's density would trigger the explosion and hopefully mitigate the force.

He was halfway across the lake and could now even identify man on the shore. Standing with his feet firmly planted and facing the rocket was Jimmy Olsen, crack photographer, snapping shot after shot. Running up behind him was Perry White.

Clark had to do this now or Jimmy, Perry and countless others would never survive. He willed it in his soul, commanded it in his molecules and with a primordial cry, crashed the screaming missile into the unyielding lake surface. The dark, heavy waters unwillingly parted, roiling around him, and brought an instant of muffled silence before the blast sent him shooting back to the surface, which thrashed and boiled like the ocean at its deadliest.

On the far shore, Jimmy lowered his camera with shaking hands, his eyes still transfixed on the high waves and white caps rolling over the body of water.

"Great shades of Elvis!" Perry pronounced with awe, coming to a halt next to Jimmy. "What in the King's name just happened? Did I just see a..."

"A missile, yeah," Jimmy nodded, swallowing hard.

"Superman?"

He shook his head, "No, someone else. Maybe the Superfriend?"

Perry eyed the camera in Jimmy's hand. "You got pictures?" Jimmy nodded again. "Shueee boy," he said shaking and scratching his head. "You just stood there with a rocket barreling down at you? That's got to be about the bravest or stupidest thing I've ever seen."

Jimmy shrugged, "I couldn't outrun it." Perry threw back his head cackling. Jimmy swayed, "I think I need to sit down," and crumpled to his knees.

Mr. White patted him on the shoulder and advised, "Take deep breaths." He scanned the lake surface; fish, pieces of the rocket and other debris floated on the muddy waves.

"Jimmy! Perry! Are you all right?" Lois called as she and Chloe ran up to them.

"Fine, fine," Mr. White assured them. "Did you see it?"

"No, we got shut in the underground bunker. We felt the impact and snuck out the escape hatch through the garage."

"Missed a heck of a splash. Oh, and Superman's friend showed up. By the way, where's Kent, isn't he back yet?"

"Not, yet Chief." Lois told him.

"What? Nobody told him Superman's been here and gone?" Mr. White looked around and noticed the missing Cal. "What about his protégé cousin?"

Chloe answered, "He went to find Kent."

"Isn't that just typical. Now I know they're related, both cut from the same cloth. Wouldn't you know, never around during the excitement."

Chloe smiled over at Lois and Lois linked their arms together companionably, laughing. "I wouldn't say never Chief."

_Author's note: Still so much to come in the ensuing chapters. Lois's Chloe mystery must be solved. Will Chloe and Clark ever have that conversation? (You know which one!) Not to mention, will our adventurers ever get home? Stay tuned._


	31. Deadlines and Dinner

_Author's note: Here is my standard "Sorry for the delay" note, but really, I didn't slack off this time or get sick or go on vacation or anything like that. I just got my butt repeatedly handed back to me by this chapter. Oh the rewrites! In fact I'm actually still not done, but decided to at least post the first part while I finish up the second half. The good news is the next part should come in a couple days. Stop laughing, I mean it! _

Martha and Jonathan Kent, weighted down by paper bags and several warm and extremely aromatic pans of lasagna, waited restlessly for the elevator doors to slid open on the newsroom floor. Once they had gotten the good news about Lois being safe and well, Martha started putting a meal together knowing the kids would be tied up for hours.

Not only did they have to spend several hours answering the FBI's questions and doing their own interviewing, they then would have to head right to the Planet.

Perry had already announced his plan to scrap or shift more than half of the content slotted to run in that Sunday morning's edition. He needed to make room for the Planet's on scene reports of the Bride Lake incident, including their exclusive interview with the ranking FBI agent about the take down of one of Intergang's chief operators and the possible second sighting of the Super Friend. (It seemed there was some debate as to whether it was the same person because of the new costume.)

Knowing Lois and Clark's tendancy to live on coffee and stale pastries during a deadline crunch, Martha took it upon herself to make sure they ate something with a little more food value. They had a lot of work and not much time to do it and they were going to need the energy. Besides, it provided her and Jonathan with a valid excuse to come down. The waiting was killing them.

Finally, the elevator bell sounded and the doors rolled open. They turned to their left and headed to set up in the break area. On their way they saw Perry White winding his way through the newsroom, pausing to check and ok various layouts and setups with a determined looking blond women dogging his every step.

Her clear voice carried. "Mr. White, I need to talk to you about your proposed changes to my article."

Without slowing down or even glancing over his shoulder, he made a harrumphing sound. "Proposed? No, no, no. We are on a deadline, passed deadline. I need the revised copy in my hands pronto."

"But Mr. White, you've cut all of Agent Jenkin's quotes."

"Look, this a sanctioned Federal Bureau of Investigations interview. Jenkin's quotes confuse, I'd even say contradict, the timeline established by Agent Kelly."

"That's because I got those quotes before the official company line came down. Someone must have realized how reckless and irresponsible the FBI looked charging in without thought for Lois or the public."

"Without further corroborating statements, they'll just say Jenkins misspoke and I repeat, we are deadlining now."

"I got him on tape."

Perry stopped and turned to face the bold reporter with sudden interest. She held out one of those mini tape recorders and told him, "In addition to Jenkins, I also have the same information from Agent Parkman and Richter."

Perry took the offered recorder, "Why would they answer questions before Agent Kelly finished giving the official interview?" He asked cautiously.

"While I gave them my statement, I did some fishing. They most kindly helped fill in the details that the recent traumatic events had made fuzzy."

Perry cackled with glee, "Now that's what I like to hear. Of course, the FBI isn't going to be too pleased having their official statement challenged within the same piece, but that should teach them never to expect the Daily Planet to be their lap dog." He rubbed his hands together. "Ok, you have twenty minutes to rework the side bar and include all your sources. Let's make the Fibbies squirm."

The young reporter pulled out a couple neatly typed pages. "Done. I emailed a copy to you also."

Perry took the pages shaking his head and grinning, "Quite the cracker-jack aren't you," he said in admiration, before bellowing, "Tommy!" and striding toward one of the copy boys. "I need graphics to work up a dual timeline for this piece. Tell layout, front page, under the fold."

Martha absently pulled out a few loaves of French bread and set them on the table as she watched the now elated girl glide over to where "Cal" was typing.

"Mom, Dad."

"Clark, dear," she gave her son a quick hug. "Where's Lois?"

"In the darkroom with Jimmy." Clark smirked and glanced around to make certain no one would be able to hear. "Clark's worried Jimmy might have gotten a picture of him after his mask came off." Strangely, her son seemed amused rather than concerned.

"Oh, dear! It didn't stay on?"

"After he plunged the missile into the lake it loosened. Then the force of the explosion did the rest of the job."

"I'm surprised, I thought it would remain secure like Lois's mask did during her time as Ultra Women. Maybe I didn't use the right material."

Clark smiled again. "It's not your fault mom. Clark confessed he left it pretty loose. He's not a fan of masks, oh and I think he suffered a little cape envy."

"I was worried about that too, but I ran out of material. Fact is, I was worried I made the whole suit too small, but there was some give in the material." Her son grinned again. "Clark Jerome Kent, why are you laughing at the poor boy?"

"I'm not laughing; really, it's just been kind of fun exchanging costume woes and the chances of Jimmy having a shot of him without the mask is really slim. Besides, Lois is there to perform a bit of sabotage if any of Jimmy's pictures turned out too good."

Changing the subject, he looked at the feast spread on the table. "The food smells great mom, but you guys didn't have to do this."

His father chuckled, "Not even Superman could have stopped her."

"Oh, Jonathan," she slapped playfully at her husband before looping her arm through Clark's and leaning in. "Now, tell me, who is that young women over there helping 'Cal' and also, just what is he doing?"

Clark glanced across the room at the couple huddled around the computer. "Since we were short on time, Perry had Clark do some research on the history of the Bride Lake area. His summary was good enough that Mr. White made a few edits and told him to submit it. The women helping, that is Chloe Sullivan."

"Really?" Martha watched as the newly identified Chloe leaned on "Cal's" shoulder as he typed at phenomenal speed, occasionally pointing to something on the screen. "I just saw her go toe to toe with Perry about a front page article. She's writing for the Daily Planet?" She shook her head in wonder and then cocked it in greater interest as something Chloe said to her Clark caused him to grin and laugh aloud.

Martha had seen the boy smile before. She had been there when he laughed, seemingly without restraint, but now it was clear he'd been holding back.

No longer.

"My, my, I see which way the wind is blowing." Pleased with what she saw reflected on both their faces, Martha turned her attention back to the current task. "Jonathan, do you have the plates?"

"They're right here, Martha."

"Here, Mom, let me help."

"I let you cut up the lasagna. Also, do you think you could do something about the cheese? I didn't give it a chance to brown very long."

Clark lowered his glasses and looked around. He peeled back the aluminum foil and exposed the tray to a burst of heat. The mozzarella bubbled and browned at the edges. "Do you have a knife?"

"Here you go, son." Jonathan handed Clark the utensil. "So, with the arrival of Chloe Sullivan, what does that mean for our travelers? How long will they be here?"

"I'm not sure at this point. I guess the plan was for Chloe to come to this universe so she could recalibrate the resonance recorder to her frequency, basically make it vibrate to the same standards as their home universe, and at a prearrange time, someone on their end would retrieve them, honing in on their signal."

Martha looked up from arranging the napkins. "Why am I hearing a 'but' hanging in the air?"

"In order for the plan to work, they need the resonance recorder and..."

"It's missing?" His father guessed.

Clark shook his head. "Not anymore. Lois found it, but,"

His mother pointed a finger at him, "Aha! There's the 'but'."

Clark pushed glasses up more firmly. "But Lois found it broken. Someone stepped on it. Superman already delivered it to Star Labs. Hopefully Dr Ivanhoe and Hamlish are able to make repairs. We'll know more in a few days."

"How awful to be waiting in limbo. But they do seem to be in good spirits."

"I think all of us realize we are in a much better place now, than where we were just this morning."

Martha followed her son's gaze to see Lois emerge from the dark room. She glanced back at her son's face; his love and utter need for his wife was powerfully recorded in the light of his eyes and the tilt of his smile. Instinctively she reached for Jonathan's hand, needing the connection and his touch to steady her while her eyes went misty.

"I can't help thinking though what could have happened if Clark hadn't gotten sent here." He looked at his parents with concern. "I mean, Intergang would still have been after Lois. Mako would still have had those missiles at his disposal."

Clark glanced around and lowered his voice, "Mom, if Clark hadn't been here…I wouldn't have gotten back to Bride Lake in time—all those people." He shook his head. "And without Chloe tracking Mako down in the first place, I might not have found Lois, let alone been on site to stop the missiles to New York and Metropolis."

"Son, the Universe is vast, any and all of them. It's a complex system. Maybe some things are more than just accidents."

"Maybe. I don't know. I do know that I'll always be grateful for whatever reason brought them to our world." He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and looked down.

His father laid his hands on the same shoulders that supported the weight of the world. "I imagine it has been nice having some help and someone who understands the pressures and responsibilities your gifts create."

Clark looked up. "Obviously there's this connection, but because we are so different, I forget that we're both supposed to be Clark Kent. The fact that we are so different has made it much easier to feel a stronger connection. Does that make any sense?"

"Son, if he'd been your twin, you would be constantly reminded how strange this was, but this way, it's been easier to focus on him as a separate person."

"Your right. I find myself thinking about him like he's a younger brother and it's not just me and not just about Clark." He glanced at his wife again. "Lois acts like she's found a long lost sister in Chloe." He sighed, raking a hand through his hair and confessed, "I know they have people and lives waiting for them, but a part of me is hoping Ivanhoe and Hamlish fail. I wish they would stay."

_Author's note: Yes, kind of short. In the next part, (In just a few days, I promise!!) Lois will have a chat with Martha. Thanks for reading and certainly for reviewing. That's what this is all about._


	32. Tea and Memories

_Author's note: As promised, the next chapter posted just a few days after the last. FYI, Lois's previous Chloe dreams happened in chapters 9 and 15._

That night, just as she had every night for the past week, Lois dreamt of a child named Chloe and a child named Lois. Like the ones before, this dream rendered her partially incapable of recognizing the real from the imaginary and once again, she awoke filled with a tangible sense of loss.

After that first night spent on the Kent's farm, the dream slipped back into a familiar pattern, reverting to something very similar to her first dream. The little girl with the chestnut colored hair no longer looked into the mirror and demanded to know where Chloe was, but instead, every once in a while, one of the two little girls stopped playing their game and looked Lois's way, just…waiting, with a patience no five year old possessed.

To make matters more confusing, Lois realized she couldn't clearly see either girl's face or even hair color. Each night she awoke more confused. In her first dream, Chloe the pink bunny sat close to Chloe and Lois the yellow rabbit leaned against Lois's knees, but tonight the owners of the rabbits had definitely swapped and this time Lois had the pink Chloe bunny and Chloe was the one dragged off by her mother.

Lois rolled to her side and clutched Clark's pillow to her chest. She'd hoped what she'd learned last night or at least coming home would have put an end to the oddly disquieting dreams, but no such luck.

Maybe if Clark had been home she thought briefly before dismissing the idea. His presence wouldn't change anything; after all, her very first Chloe dream had arrived last Sunday morning when Clark was right at her side. Still, she let herself long for the comfort of his arms.

She glanced at the digital clock sitting on the nightstand. Just past three o'clock in the morning. Clark would be home soon, but soon was too long to wait. Lois gave into her restlessness, got up, and slipped on a rose silk robe. Tea suddenly sounded wonderful.

Opening her bedroom door slowly, Lois slid past the frame and into the hall. Soft snores drifted from the room Jonathan and Martha shared, while all was silent down the hall in Chloe's room.

Last night when they finally returned to the townhome a little past midnight, Clark had insisted on giving up his room to Chloe and taking the couch. Chloe, acting as exhausted as Lois felt, hadn't even argued. She'd showered and gone straight to bed. The rest of them followed suit except for the Clarks.

Those boys, being of like mind, planned a return trip to the sites of the explosions. Her Clark was concerned how close the debris field was to a pair of UN satellites and Chloe's Clark had muttered if he didn't do a clean up at the lake someone named AC would have his head. Lois had been too tired to ask what that meant. Both, barring the unexpected planned to return soon. Even Supermen needed some time to rest.

Clark had once explained that while going without sleep didn't leave him tired in the classic sense, a kind of mental weariness did start to descend after a few days. Without sleep to process everything he experienced, his mind slowly filled with a clutter of images and impressions that left him feeling unsettled.

Lois, thinking how well she could relate to that problem, tightened the sash of her robe and padded down the back stairs leading into the kitchen. The kitchen was her second favorite room, a room she loved even if breakfast was the only meal she could handle without creating a fire hazard.

In the morning, sun streamed through the wide windows and bounced off the copper pots and pans hanging over the center island, bathing the breakfast nook in warmth, but even in the dead of the night, the kitchen still seemed cheery.

She filled a whimsical kettle shaped like a rooster with water and placed it on the back burner. Lois was pulling a mug out of the cabinet when she heard the tread on the third step from the bottom creak, alerting her someone else was not sleeping.

"Lois honey, mind if I join you?"

"No. I mean yes. I mean, please do. I'm sorry, did I wake you?" She took out a second mug and placed both over by the stovetop.

Martha waved her concern away, "No, no. It was Jonathan's snoring. Usually I don't even notice it anymore, but with all of today's excitement, I woke up with my mind racing and couldn't get back to sleep."

Lois sighed, "I know the feeling."

Martha patted her hand, "I can't imagine why. Traveling between dimensions, getting kidnapped, and surviving a thwarted missile strike…just an ordinary day."

Lois smiled, feeling a great rush of affection for Clark's mother. "I'm so glad you and Jonathan are here. I missed you both."

Martha enfolded her in a warm hug, "We're so glad to have you back. Oh honey, I can't imagine how terrified and alone you must have felt."

"There were moments, but for the most part I never was alone. Chloe took me under her wing from the start. She kept me busy, wouldn't let me worry too much." Lois shook her head in a kind of wonder.

"At one point, Chloe thought sending me home meant Clark couldn't return and even though it clearly was breaking her heart, she insisted that my return was top priority." Lois blinked back the sudden tear accompanying the powerful memory.

She took a moment before continuing breezily, "Fortunately, there was another way." She chuckled lightly, "Of course, then there was the little matter of the twenty thousand dollars needed to fix the AU-ray. I'm not even going to go into how she managed that."

Martha reached out and smoothed back a strand of Lois's hair, the sort of absent motherly touch that made Lois want to tear up again. "Chloe seems to be a remarkable young women, she reminds me of someone else I know," Martha looked pointedly at Lois.

The kettle started whistling and Lois quickly removed it from the burner. Martha opened a cupboard and took out the tea bags. After pouring the water, they took their mugs and sat down at the breakfast nook.

Lois sipped, trying to let the warmth of the tea ease the fretful tension plaguing her thoughts. Instead, impressions from her perplexing dream and Martha's comment mingled in her mind. She felt a touch on her hand.

"Lois, is there something you want to talk about?"

Lois shook her head. "There's a dream I've been having and I'm all jumbled up. I found out something tonight," she paused and looked at the clock, "make that last night, and what I found makes me believe it might be more than a dream, but I'm not sure if I'm ready to talk about it just yet."

"Alright, then we'll change the subject. Tell me, did anything interesting happen while you were living in another world? Meet anyone I would know?"

Lois laughed, "Well, I got into a fight with Chloe's cousin."

"You don't mean…"

"Yep, none other than that world's Lois Lane."

"Oh dear me. What happened?"

"Misunderstanding over why I was sitting at Chloe's desk." Lois grimaced, "Accused me of trying to steal Chloe's article."

"My goodness! Was there bloodshed?"

"No, but it was a near thing. Did I mention she's a writer for the Inquisitor?"

"Dear lord, no."

"I also had an introduction to Jimmy Olsen. There, he is the same age as Clark and Chloe."

"How odd."

Lois swirled her tea, staring into the whirling brown vortex she created. "I also met with Senator Martha Kent."

Martha set her mug down on the table and turned her full attention to Lois. At Lois's hesitation she asked, "She couldn't have been that bad."

"No, no, she was lovely to me, very kind."

"Everyone else is more than ten years younger—except Jimmy. How'd I fare?"

A small smile touched Lois's lips. "She's very young, still in her forties I'd say. Very poised. A stunning redhead and the saddest women I've met in a long while."

Martha frowned, "I imagine she was very worried about her son. I know I'd be utterly frantic."

"Yes, of course, but there was something more, a feeling that I think she's been living with for awhile." Lois took a sip of her tea, mulling her thoughts over for a moment. "I got the impression of great strength, and yet at what cost? Something about her made me feel like something was missing, like she's put away a part of herself."

"She lost her husband last year. If I lost Jonathan, I'd, I'd…Well, I'd never be the same." Martha sipped her tea before adding, "When you lose someone who defines your life, there is no way not to be altered profoundly. When my mother died, I felt a door to my past close. I'd never be a daughter again."

Lois placed her hand over Martha's and asked, "How long ago did you lose her?"

"Close to year after I married Jonathan. It was shortly after Mom died that we decided to try for children. After a couple years, we found out that was impossible. The news hit me hard, Jonathan too of course, but when I found out I couldn't bear children I discovered something."

"What was that?"

"I realized a key reason why I was longing for a child. In some part of my mind, I was keeping my mother alive by trying to become her. But I couldn't and the realization was devastating. It was almost like losing her all over again."

Lois frowned, beyond the sympathy she felt for Martha, her words resonated on a personal level, but she pushed her thoughts aside and said. "That must have been hard." Martha took Lois's hand and squeezed it.

"It was a long time ago and I've had so many joys in my life since. The arrival of Clark more than made up for not being able to have biological children and when he found you, well, I'd always wanted a daughter."

Lois squeezed her mother-in-law's hand in return, not having the words to express how much Martha's meant to her.

For the next few minutes, they sat and sipped in companionable silence, trying to let the chamomile tea do its job, but Lois couldn't get Martha's comment about trying to become her mother out of her head. It played on a loop in her mind, bumping against her already crowded thoughts. Chloe, the dreams, who Lois Lane was, who she wasn't, was it all connected?

Without realizing her own intent, Lois blurted out what she'd learned earlier in the evening. "Chloe Sullivan died in a car accident when she was five years old."

"What?"

"Before my unexpected trip, I had this odd dream and well, from that I played a hunch and left a message for the county clerk in Granville. Granville's a smallish burg I lived in when I was around five." Lois slid out of the breakfast nook and walked to the set of swinging doors separating the kitchen from the formal dinning room.

"Tonight when I got to the Planet," she paused to push open a door and snag something off a sidetable in the dinning room, "this envelope was waiting for me." She held the bulky envelope out to Martha who removed the tri-folded documents and smoothed them out on the table in front of her.

"Are these…would you hand me my glasses, dear? I left a pair in the silverware drawer." Lois fetched them and Martha studied the papers once more. "They are. They sent you death certificates." Lois nodded, standing silently at her side.

Martha read the name on the second certificate. "Moira Elizabeth Sullivan, she was?"

"Chloe's mother, my mother's youngest sister, and my aunt I guess, though I've never thought of her in those terms." Lois bit her lip in attempt to stem her sudden urge to babble while Martha examined the sheets closer.

"A day apart, but they both died, 'as a result of injuries sustained in a vehicular collision.' You would have been nearly six when this happened. You don't remember any of this?"

"No…, not really," Lois answer with reticence.

Martha picked up on her hesitation. "But there is something, isn't there," she gently prodded. Lois whirled around, the skirt of her robe billowing out, and began to pace the length of the kitchen.

"Ok, yes, there is something," she admitted. "I've been having these really vivid, intense dreams for the past week."

"What are they about?"

Lois stopped pacing and wrapped her arms around her torso. "Two little girls, playing." A far away look clouded her eyes. "They were so happy. I could feel their pleasure, their excitement. They were happy to be together, happy to be playing, happy to be dreaming of who they would become on day."

"They were just playing? Was that everything?"

"No, not exactly, but right at the end, one of the girls mother interrupts and starts to drag her away and…they know." Lois whispered her last words."

Martha shivered; Lois's voice sent a chill down her spine. She softly asked, "What do they know?"

"They know that this time it's a forever kind of goodbye." Lois wiped a tear and cleared away the lump forming in her throat. "Then I wake up."

Martha took a sip of tea to compose herself. No child should have to suffer through that kind of self-awareness, even ones in a dream. "Do you think you are remembering something?"

"I don't know. It makes no sense." Lois started pacing again. "Like you said, I would have been almost six. I remember plenty of things from even before that age. I remember when Lucy was born and all the pink balloons at the hospital. I remember learning how to ride my bike--without even using training wheels, mind you. I remember getting sick after swiping an entire batch of homemade chocolate chip cookies, likely where my current chocolate addiction started, by the way."

"So why," Lois threw her hands up in the air, "why would I forget a cousin, my best friend, someone who meant the planet, I mean world to me?" Lois shook her head, trying to make the pieces fit. Martha let her rant.

"Maybe, maybe I just remember hearing about the funerals. Most of my mother's family lived on the other side of the country. Even to this day, I've only met about three quarters of all my cousins. So maybe I just heard about this unknown cousin, identified with her since we were the same age and tucked the information away until now, when my subconscious wants to torture me."

Lois closed her eyes and shook her head again. "But the death certificates were issued out of Granville, so they had to have been nearby." A weary and long sigh escaped her lips.

"You know who you should be talking to, don't you?" Martha asked, and knowing Lois's prickly relationship with her mother, asked not without sympathy.

Lois sighed again, but this time, the sigh was short and martyred. "Yes. Daddy's going to be in Metropolis for a conference Monday and she's decided to come with him. We will be having brunch that morning." Lois was halfway to the stove, intent on upping her dosage of the usually soothing chamomile tea, when she heard the front door close.

She had only enough time to put her mug back down before her husband and his younger self walked through the swinging double doors. She rushed over and threw herself into his arms, which instantly closed protectively around her.

"Hey. What's wrong?" he asked while running his hand in a sweeping motion down her back.

She shook her head and insisted, "Nothing's wrong," but still clung to him.

"Then why are you up? Why the tremendous greeting? Not that I'm complaining."

Lois laughed and looked up into Clark's tender eyes. "It's because you're here. It's because I'm here. It's because there is nothing I wanted more this week than be able to throw myself in your arms. So it's because I can." Her husband tightened his hold and buried his hand in her chestnut colored hair.

The other Clark stepped further into the kitchen, cautiously observing his hosts and looking around, "So if everything is fine, why's everyone awake? Where's Chloe?" A fine tension gripped him, furrowing his brow and drawing his mouth down into a frown.

Lois had her arms twined around her husband's neck and her lips pressed to his, doing her best to catch up on all of the missed good night kisses and good morning kisses in one session. She pulled a scant inch away from his lips and muttered, "azleb," before continuing with her greeting.

Martha noted the young man's perplexed look and took pity on him.

"Lois and I were just having a cup of tea to unwind and I think Lois was trying to say that Chloe is still asleep."

"Not anymore," Chloe's voice floated to them from the top landing.

Chloe started down the stairs, stifling a yawn and running her hand through her tousled hair. Martha glanced back at Clark and saw his eyes carefully following her descent. He looked at her in her sleep-softened state as if she was decked out in flashing gems and the finest silks rather than an oversized, saffron colored bathrobe that was so long, the tips of her toes just peeked out.

But what really had Martha smiling was watching the stiffness ease out of Clark's shoulders and the lines in his forehead smooth completely once Chloe stood within arms length.

Martha turned toward her son and the daughter of her heart to find that they were still holding tightly to each other and swaying to their own music. Her smile deepened, but she shook her head and announced, "I'm going back to bed."

She passed by young Clark, giving his arm a gentle squeeze and patted Chloe on the hand as she passed her on the stairs. Over her shoulder she called, "Good night, and oh, there's water in the kettle if you'd like tea."

"Thank you."

"Good night, Mrs. Kent."

A moment later, as she went around the corner at the top of the staircase, she heard her son and Lois offer belated good nights. They must have just now noticed she'd left, she thought smirking into the dark.

Tired.

Martha was feeling good and tired as she walked down the hall to the customary room she and Jonathan used when they were in town. Not bothering with a light, she removed her robe and draped it over the desk chair before pulling pulled back the covers, climbing into the queen-sized bed and snuggling close to Jonathan's still sleeping form.

On cue, his arm came around her and Martha felt any lingering tension drain from her body.

Peace.

Affection.

Warmth.

Love.

This was what she wanted, needed. After all these years, some things never changed…thank God. The best place in the universe remained wrapped in her husband's arms. No matter where they went, as long as they were together, she had her home.

She and Jonathan had both rejoiced when their son found the same thing in Lois and as she drifted off with her husband's soft snores acting like a familiar lullaby, she wondered if Senator Martha Kent's son realized he'd found it too.

_Author's note: Next chapter, Clark and Chloe talk!!!!! Please keep the reviews coming, I love feedback._


	33. Just Friends?

"So," Clark said straightening his glasses left askew from Lois's early endearments, "I think we're going to turn in also."

"Clark," Lois called to their guest, "I put some pillows and blankets out on the couch."

Clark nodded, "I saw them, thank you."

"Good night."

Lois and Clark climbed the stairs arm in arm with their heads tilted together, totally absorbed in each other. Chloe watched and felt a deep satisfaction. Even though she hadn't succeeded...yet…in returning everyone to their rightful universe, seeing Lois reunited with her husband made the desperate worry of the past week worthwhile. Though honestly, just being in the same universe with Clark had made everything better.

Tonight she'd awakened not because of any sound or light, but by some inner need to confirm finding Clark wasn't a dream. Logically, waking up in a strange bedroom wearing Clark's old blue t-shirt should have been enough, but she craved seeing him, being close to him and so she donned the robe hanging on the door and planed on creeping down and taking a quick look.

Instead, she walked into a bright kitchen just as Clark came through the swinging doors. Her heart had slammed about in her chest; she tried to convince herself it was merely in relief. She overheard Clark asking about her, saying her name; she tried to tell herself her knees weren't really that weak.

Friends, they were only friends. Why was that getting so hard to remember?

Lack of sleep, that was it; exhaustion must be to blame. She might have had three solid hours, the most she'd had at one time since Clark disappeared, but that didn't mean she was thinking straight. A smaller voice whispered or maybe she was too tired to pretend any longer.

"Go ahead and sit down," Clark directed. "I'll get the tea."

Chloe wrapped her robe more securely as if by tightening a sash she could contain her wayward emotions as well. She slid into the booth at the breakfast table. "Tea, sure. Why not?"

Clark smiled at her low level of enthusiasm for any hot beverage not grown in Columbia. Knowing chamomile would be too pale for Chloe's coffee addicted taste buds, he selected a decaffeinated black tea laced with pungent spices. After reheating the kettle the Clark Kent way, he poured the boiling water into the cups and set them on the table to steep.

"Thank you," Chloe murmured, scooting further in to make room for Clark. "How did the clean up go?" She asked, starting the conversation on a safe topic.

"Pretty good. I removed the rocket debris, restored the level to the lakebed, and burnt off the remaining rocket fuel. Oh and pulled out a dozen or so tires, some suspicious looking barrels, and an ice house."

"An ice house? Spring came a little too early for someone." Chloe sniffed the liquid in front of her, suspicious of this tea-drinking fad she'd agreed to support. Surprisingly, the peppery spices assailing her senses appealed rather than repelled. She optimistically took a sip. "Oh, I like this."

Clark chuckled at her surprise and couldn't resist teasing her. "Exciting, isn't it, discovering foods out of your strict regiment of coffee, coffee, stale blueberry muffins, and coffee."

Chloe stuck out her tongue and took another sip. "I'll have you know that blueberries are an excellent source of antioxidants."

"Tell me, what are those good for again?" Clark quizzed, grinning her way. His toothy, lopsided smile short-circuited her brain.

"Um…I can't remember right now. So the clean up went smoothly," she laughingly changed the subject back.

"Yeah, good," something flashed in his eyes, "…mostly."

"Mostly? Ok, you have an odd look on you face. What is it?"

"The FBI were still there, some military too."

"Does that mean you went in suited up?"

"Yeah, I even brought a spare mask, just in case."

"So they saw you?"

"Oh, they saw me. They had the whole are lit up and spotlights down by the lake."

"What happened? I mean, from where we come from the Government gets kind of jumpy around mysterious masked strangers prowling around the site of a rouge missile explosion."

"They were expecting me. Superman paid them a visit, so when I arrived, they even brought in a couple flatbed trucks for the scraps."

Chloe cocked her head to study him, "You seem kind of weirded out and that's saying something seeing as you've taken traveling to a parallel universe in stride."

Clark cupped his mug between his hands, starring at the brew and trying to explain what he'd felt, "It was weird. I've never used my powers like that before—completely out in the open, a hundred strangers watching me and no reason to hurry or hide anything. It was great and terrifying at the same time. They even thanked me before I left."

"I'm glad, you deserve their thanks."

"I'm not doing anything that anybody else with my abilities wouldn't do."

Chloe kept silent, her heart swelling with love and pride over his determined naivety. She knew how many examples he'd come up against that challenged his belief, but he continued choosing to have faith in the good of the many. "You still deserve it," she repeated.

"I'll admit it, it felt good. I don't just mean their thanks, I mean being able to do _all_ I could to help. It's what I've always wanted." He closed his eyes suddenly and shook his head ruefully. "That's not really true."

Chloe sipped her tea and waited patiently for him to continue. When he opened his eyes again, mixed in the depths of the blue green sparkle, she read regret and newfound self-awareness.

"I spent too many of my teenage years wanting to be like everyone else, to just be normal; but," his lips twitched and turned up a smile, "along the way someone told me normal is vastly overrated."

Chloe blushed, remembering when she'd said something like that. "Whether or not you wanted to be just like everyone else, you still did all you could to help. _That _is normal for Clark Kent."

"It's taken me awhile to realize that." Clark waited until Chloe lifted her eyes to meet his gaze before confessing, "It took you believing in me."

Chloe's heart lurched and started pounding. She became acutely aware of how closely they sat, their sides pressed together, his words spoken almost directly in her ear, and yet, the compulsion to get closer seized her.

Friends! We are just friends, a tiny corner of her sanity screamed. She gulped the rest of her tea. "It's late. I should help you make out -UP! In bed, your bed, I mean the bed. I should help you make up the couch into a bed." She scooted awkwardly out the other side and stood waiting, desperately trying to push down her mortification. "Unless you don't want help? Maybe I should just say goodnight."

"No!" Clark jumped up. "No, stay. I could use the help." Chloe nodded her head once and nervously tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She turned toward the double door and worked on suppressing the knowledge of how little Clark really _needed_ her help. Maybe he…

You are being ridiculous, she scolded herself. He's your best friend. We're just…

In the privacy of her mind, she was no longer convinced that what she and Clark had could best be described as just friendship. It seemed like they were about to turn a corner in their relationship and as badly as she wanted that, a new worry overtook her.

She stopped denying the emotions she saw coming from Clark, but were they genuine or just a result of being stuck here? Could she trust what he so suddenly was feeling? How much of it was loneliness? How much was gratitude?

Chloe reached up to push open the swinging door, but Clark beat her to it. He stood behind her and stretched his arm around her waist to hold open the door. She fought the urge to lean back against him. In this position, she was almost wrapped in his arms. With practiced determination, she walked ahead, not looking back.

She didn't have to look back.

Through the dinning room and all the way into the living room, Clark stayed close, so close so she felt the heat radiating from his skin, felt it even through her thick, oversized robe.

Chloe zeroed in on the linens piled on the couch. She scooped up a pillow and set about wiggling it into the pillowcase. Clark grabbed its mate. "Chloe," he began, but the serious note in his voice that had her panicking again. She cut him off.

"Did Kent say anything about Star Labs? I know Superman dropped the RR watch off for repairs, but he didn't have much of a chance to say anything about it. What did he find out? Anything?"

Clark paused with his pillow only half in its case and frowned before accepting her blatant change of subject. He shook the pillow the rest of the way down.

"Not too much. Dr. Ivanhoe and Hamlish started working on a replacement watch after Lois was transported with the original. At that time, they said at least a month, maybe a lot more, but having the prototype back, even a badly damaged one, well, I guess they were enthusiastic. Said they'd know more today."

He tossed the pillow onto the facing love seat. Chloe set hers down next to it and shifted the blankets off the couch as well. She opened up the sheet and gestured to the backside of the couch, suggesting wordlessly to Clark he handle that side. He walked around.

"Hopefully, we'll know more then, but either way, I assume you know we're under a deadline of a few days." He smoothed the draped sheet over the back of the couch.

"We have somewhat more time," she said absently while tucking in the other side of the sheet.

"How? The vibration frequencies start to adjust and realign to this world within a few days."

"True. Unless you have the stabilizers." Chloe reached into the terrycloth pocket on the robe and held up several grey disks. "As long as these are switched on and in close proximity to me, they will extend the stability of my universal frequency, amplifying it too."

"How long?"

She shrugged. "If in continual use, at least a month, maybe indefinitely." She turned to grab one of the blankets and missed seeing Clark blanch and grab the back of the couch for support as a sudden realization struck him.

"Chloe, why wouldn't you have the stabilizers always on?" She froze and slowly turned, still clutching the folded blanket. She bit her lip, but didn't answer. "Chloe, these sensors, Ivanhoe and Hamlish, they could use them to find you. They could use them to bring you home. Couldn't they?"

Chloe jerked her shoulders up and down, poorly attempting a nonchalant shrug and shook out the blanket, letting it float down over the couch. "That's not what is going to happen," she vowed with steel and ice in her voice. "I've been turning them off during the scheduled retrieval times."

"Chloe," he said, his voice soft, yet intense, "I shouldn't let you take any more risks. I should tell you to leave them switched on and go home the first chance you get."

"Look," she snapped and whipped her head up, finally looking him in the eyes, "I didn't come here for the frequent flyer miles. Ivanhoe and Hamlish will fix the RR watch and until they do I'm turning off the tagging devices during the retrieval times, assuming someone is even bothering to try retrieval. I'm not going back until you can."

Clark super sped around the couch and pulled her into his arms. She felt her body soften instantly and fought to build up her defenses. "You're not going to change my mind." He pushed a hand into her golden hair and buried his face against it.

"Though I should, I'm not even going to try."

"What?" She asked, suddenly confused.

He pulled back so he could see her face. Scrubbed free of any make up Chloe could have passed for fourteen again and in an instant, he flashed back to the first day they met. She'd kissed him, getting it out the way so they could be friends. He remembered bringing her up to his loft, remembered finding himself alone with her.

Chloe had been right back then; he had been thinking of kissing her. He was thinking of it now too.

He brushed back her hair, studying her jaw line and the side of her face. The bruise Shark gave her this morning was barely visible. The poultices Kent concocted worked wonders.

"Clark, what do you mean?"

He caressed her marked skin gently, remembering from this morning the blood smears and dirt smudges covering her beautiful face. He'd come so close to losing her. She'd taken so many chances in her quest to bring him home, but the thought of Chloe suddenly disappearing weakened him faster than kryptonite. "Staying with me, you are gambling with your future, but I don't have the strength to send you away."

Chloe's hands dug into the material at the front of his dark t-shirt, "I wouldn't go." His hands tightened their hold.

"Ah Chloe, Chloe. You have no idea how much I missed you."

"I know how much I missed you," she ended on a whisper, her ability to speak shutting down as Clark lowered his head and brushed his lips against hers, the lightest of touches from the strongest of men.

Chloe felt more heat than pressure, the taste of his breath heavy with the spices of their tea. One of his hands lay curled at the nape of her neck, still buried in her hair, his thumb gently kneading and sending streams of pleasure up and down her spine. His other hand cupped her jaw, giving Clark control over the force and depth of their kiss.

He brushed against her mouth again, exhaling cinnamon and pepper before returning and deepening their contact. He nudged and nibbled, savoring her tender flesh, learning her shape and texture leisurely.

His restraint was both tender and maddening. Someone whimpered and Chloe realized she was the source of the sound. More heat rolled over her skin, drowning her flash of embarrassment. She could hold back nothing. Beneath her fingers, Clark's heart pounded in his chest, telling her he was equally affected.

A moment latter he pulled back, but not away. Their lips broke contact, but his breath still washed over her face and his hands still held her in place. She willed her eyes to open, but found it hard to break away from the pleasurable stupor in which he'd left her adrift. Finally, her eyelids fluttered open to find his face inches away.

His masculine beauty struck her anew but it was the look in his eyes that kept her heart racing as he stared at her, looking his fill. Reflected in his eyes, as if he'd made the greatest of discoveries, she saw something akin to wonder.

Her hands bunched tighter at the front of his shirt as desire and belonging broke free from the dam she'd erected in front of her emotions. She wanted him, needed him, and he gazed at her as if she held all the answers. An older emotion arose, made stronger than the rest for its familiarity. Fear eroded her confidence, snidely poking and chiding, this can't be what you think it is.

Clark leaned toward her again but this time Chloe's hand shot up to cover his mouth. "No, please wait."

Clark shook his head, "I've been waiting too long," and leaned forward again. Chloe pulled back and out of his grasp.

A crease appeared between his eyebrows and she thought for a second she might have seen a flash of hurt at her rejection. "Chloe?" He said her name, asking every question in one syllable.

She took another step back and shook her head. "I've, I've got to go." She turned and fled up the staircase, her own cowardliness chasing her all the way back to the bedroom.


	34. Jump

_Author's note: May I express my thanks for sticking with me. This chapter tied me up and gave me a beating. I carried a notebook everywhere I went for the last twenty-three days. Every break I took at work revolved around this, every time I drove somewhere in the car I tried to imagine this chapter. I wrote dozens of pages that ended up being nothing more than an exercise to figure out what everyone was thinking. I even started working on it during a particularly dull patch during a bridal shower this last weekend (backfired, a bunch of people came over because I looked sad-kind of a hard thing to explain.). Good news is, this is a long one--longest yet. Hope you enjoy._

A cowardly craven.

A gutless recreant.

A lily-livered, spineless chicken wimp.

Words spoke deeply to Chloe and this time they gave her a thrashing. She was a wuss, a baby, a…a milksop, and yet it changed nothing. She'd fled - ran - and as much as it pained Chloe to admit, faced with the same circumstances, she'd do it all over again.

She found that realization extremely unhelpful and while the morning didn't bring any new waves of wisdom, its arrival did bolster her resolve to stop running. She had more questions than answers, but nothing would change while she hid upstairs.

Chloe showered, dressed, and tried not to think about what she was going to say to Clark. She instead concentrated on more mundane curiosities. Part of her was astounded morning arrived so quickly. One moment she was torn between reliving the bliss of Clark's touch and the agony of having to make a decision, and the next moment, the midmorning sun blazed in her eyes.

She donned jeans and a simple, yet feminine violet tank top and as a not so unconscious stalling tactic, took pains to style her hair and apply her make up. She studied her reflection.

She passed inspection. No reason left to wait.

At the end of the hallway, Chloe braced herself and descended the kitchen stairs while surreptitiously seeking Clark. Even with her head mixed up, she had to face him.

Now her heart, it knew just what it wanted and teamed up with her internal thesaurus to call her every kind of fool, but her heart hadn't always been her best guide and her head wasn't sure which path led to heartbreak and which led to her deepest desire. Chloe wondered if they might be one in the same.

She greeted the crowd and her, "Good morning," was met with a return chorus from the elder and junior sets of Kents. She didn't see Clark. Lois finished pouring a fresh cup of coffee and without asking, filled a second mug and handed it to Chloe. Chloe sipped automatically and as always, the hit of caffeine went a long way toward clearing the cobwebs. "Thanks, I needed that."

Kent raised his eyebrows, "I can't believe you can drink that sludge."

Chloe shrugged, "Tastes fine to me."

Lois smirked at her husband, "And why wouldn't it? After all, I made it."

"Yes," he replied shaking his head, "that's why the rest of us stuck to orange juice." Their easy teasing coaxed out Chloe's smile. Martha, who was sitting next to Jonathan at the breakfast nook, caught Chloe's eye and smiled along with her.

"So dear," began Mrs. Kent in between sipping her juice, "did you have any trouble getting back to sleep last night?" The smile hovering on Chloe's lips faltered and she dropped her eyes to the floor, but answered truthfully enough.

"Surprisingly no." Chloe forced a smile back in place. "I completely conked out soon after my head hit the pillow." Martha tilted her head a fraction and gave her a funny look, but said nothing.

"Was I the only one who stayed in bed last night?" Jonathan asked, folding his newspaper and setting it aside.

Martha patted his arm consolingly, "You've never been much of a night owl."

"I suppose not. That's the farm life for you. I noticed young Clark is quite the early bird too. He was heading out the door just as I came downstairs."

Chloe set her coffee mug down harder than she intended. A few drops sloshed onto the counter. "He's gone? Where did he go? Did he say anything?"

"Just that he'd be gone for a while and not to worry." Jonathan paused while reaching for a blueberry muffin perched on a pile in the middle of the table. "You don't think he's in some kind of trouble?"

She shrugged but shook her head, "I don't know, probably not." She sighed. "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to get some air." Chloe headed for the front door. Those left in the kitchen looked around at each other.

"Did I say something wrong?" Jonathan asked.

"No, no, dear, though I think our Miss Sullivan is sorry to have missed young Clark."

"There's more to it than just disappointment, Martha. She's very upset about something," Lois insisted.

"How can you tell?"

Lois pointed to the counter. "She forgot her coffee." A beat later, she pushed away from the counter she was leaning on. "I should go talk to her." Her husband shook his head and pushed up his glasses.

"No. I'll go. I think I have an idea of what might be going on." Clark picked up the forgotten mug and followed. He found her sitting on the front steps, resting her elbows on her knees and her chin in her hands, already mindlessly staring at the passing traffic.

"You left your coffee behind." She glanced up, startled. He wasn't certain whether over her mental lapse or by his sudden intrusion. He handed her the mug and sat down alongside.

"Thank you," she murmured keeping her eyes averted. Kent accepted her thanks with a nod and settled back to watch the traffic as well. He let several minutes flow past, waiting to see her shoulders relax again, before breaking the silence.

"I haven't had the chance to thank you for all your help here and everything you did for Lois back in your world. She's talked about you a great deal."

Chloe's brow furrowed, "Don't thank me; it was my curiosity that triggered this whole mess in the first place."

"I don't think it's as simple as that, but no matter what, I am grateful for the friendship you freely offered, for bringing her home, and for all your help in locating her here."

He removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I don't know if I would have found her in time without you." Chloe doubted his glasses truly bothered him, but didn't comment on his emotional fidget. He studied his glasses before putting them back on.

"This past week was hard." He lowered his head, as if the weight of his memories might overwhelm him and let his linked hands hang loosely between his knees. "I'm not used to being powerless in any circumstance and this was my life."

"I'm sorry you had to go through that." Chloe vividly remembered her own feelings of helplessness during the past week.

He nodded, accepting her understanding before continuing. "I've never felt time move more slowly. It was the longest week of my life," he raised his head and waited to catch her eye, "because Lois _is_ my life. I don't know what I'd do without her. I had moments last week when I thought I might go insane. Only two things saved me."

Chloe placed her hand gently on his forearm, trying to ease the torment his memories were stirring. "What were they?"

"First, my love for Lois. We've been in impossible situations before and sometimes all I've had to rely on is the miracle of our love."

Chloe blinked back tears, affected by his frank admission. "And the second thing," she prompted huskily, "what was the other thing that brought you comfort?"

Clark cocked his head looked at her appraisingly, "You."

Shocked, Chloe snatched her hand back. "What? How could I? You couldn't. You didn't even know me."

"Maybe not, but I didn't have to. Clark has infinite faith in you." Chloe bit her lip to keep it from trembling.

"Lois vanished before my eyes and immediately he told me you'd bring her home. He was absolutely certain and I clung to his belief." A far away look clouded his eyes. "We ran out of solutions and Clark made sure I knew you wouldn't give up. He made sure I knew you. He told me of your strength and resolve, ingenuity and determination, your deep compassion," a smile touched his lips, "and your eternal pursuit of the answers."

He laid a compassionate hand on her forearm, mirroring her earlier gesture. "I realize that the love I share with Lois has power, sometimes the power to make miracles happen." He was silent for a moment. "I recognize the same strength in the love Clark shares with you."

The tears brimming in her hazel eyes shimmered and fell. She hastily wiped her cheeks. "It's not like that with us, we're just friends," she insisted.

"Is that the way you want it to be?" He asked gently.

"No! I mean, I don't know. I wish I could believe…"she trailed off unhappily.

"Something happened last night didn't it. Did you have a fight?"

"No, not at all."

"What happened?"

"It's complicated," she told him.

"Love usually is."

"He kissed me," she said in wonder and a tinge of disbelief, raising her hand unconsciously to her lips. Her fingertips ghosted along the edges, reliving the moment.

Kent sighed and leapt to a conclusion, "And the next morning, he ran." Lois had filled him in on Chloe and Clarks friendship, though he hadn't needed their whole story to see how much Chloe cared for Clark.

"Actually, I'm the one who ran away first."

"What?" His head popped up in surprise and disbelief. "But you are obviously in love with him. From what Lois told me, you have been for years. Why would you do that?"

Chloe's cheeks burned in embarrassment and she wanted to let her gaze slid to the floor. She stiffened her spine instead. "Talk to me after you've fallen for your best friend and have no choice but watch while he fawns for years over someone else," she retorted, feeling defensive.

"Try me," he invited, irony dripping of his tongue.

"Let me guess, Lana Lang?"

"Who? Lana?" He scoffed, sounding amused. "No, Lana Lang was strictly high school infatuation."

"Lois?" She asked incredulously. Chloe found it hard to believe. Apart from Jonathan and Martha Kent (either set), she'd never met a couple as in sync or so obviously right for each other.

"I can't say what I felt for her initially, though my parents claim they knew Lois was the one the first time I said her name. Perry stuck us together on an assignment and Lois wasn't completely thrilled working with a rookie, but we made a good team, a great team. We became partners and close friends. I knew I wanted to spend my life with her."

"But Lois…"

"But Lois only had eyes for Superman and then later she started dating Lex Luthor."

"What did you do?" She asked leaning toward him.

"Lex eventually asked her to marry him and I confessed my feelings for her."

"And?"

"She didn't return my feelings…as Clark."

"What does that mean?"

"That night, I saw her as Superman and…she confessed her feelings to him saying that even if he was just an ordinary man living an ordinary life, she would love him just the same."

"Ouch."

"Yeah," he fiddled with how his glasses sat behind his ear, "not my favorite memory. Eventually Luthor was exposed so Lois didn't marry him and I told her I only said I loved her to try and stop her from marrying Lex."

"The friend's card, I'm familiar with that one, but how…never mind."

"No, go ahead and ask."

"I shouldn't, I really shouldn't", She bit her lip, but couldn't hold back her curiosity. "Obviously you're very happy together and none of that stuff matters anymore, but how could you…how did you know…I mean she knows who you are now, all about you, so do you ever doubt, oh, forget it."

"No, its ok, I know what your getting at. I turned down Lois when she told me as Superman that she loved me because it wasn't real, it couldn't be. Superman isn't real. He's just a fantasy, a larger than life projection. He really isn't really who I am, just something I can do."

"Of course."

"Lois and I were friends, best friends, and there came a point when she started seeing me, Clark Kent, as more than just a friend. She told me later that started right around the time she realized Superman was just a fantasy."

"How did you know though?" Chloe twisted her hands in her lap. "How did you know she wasn't going to change her mind and start chasing after the fantasy again?"

"I didn't. My feelings for Lois weren't going to go away so I had to decide if what we could have together was worth risking what we already had as friends and partners." He stood, brushed off the seat of his pants, and headed back inside. As he opened the door, he paused and looked at her over his shoulder, "I'm guessing you're going to have to make the same decision."

* * *

When Kent went back inside, a wave of restlessness hit. Chloe wished she could go somewhere, do something, anything but face the truth. While she was willing to risk or even lose her life for Clark, Chloe feared she'd already run out of the kind of courage it took to blindly leap for his love. 

It was too far to fall.

She'd lost her heart to Clark while he was a gangly, uncoordinated youth with a sweet smile and curious mind. Through the years, he'd grown in stature and responsibility, becoming more amazing before her eyes and lodging himself deeper in her affections. And almost all along the way, Clark just saw her as a friend.

So, she'd pulled back her emotions, hiding them away, even from herself some of the time. When she'd stumbled onto his secret, the love she'd squashed and denied transformed. Her romantic longings didn't go away; they just seemed insignificant in scope. She never stopped loving Clark, but by compartmentalizing that love, she was able to be the friend he needed. It went both ways.

He was the friend she needed too.

She relied on Clark to be there, not for his heroic nature, but to listen and laugh and call her on her mistakes when she needed it. Every tragedy cut less severely and every bright moment shone more brilliantly when Clark stood at her side. Her relationship with Clark went deeper than any that came before.

Her mother was catatonic, her father gone, and her friendship with Lana more one sided than she liked to admit and she couldn't even entirely blame Lana for that.

For one, Chloe found other people's problems much simpler to handle than her own and Lana made it easy for Chloe not to talk about her problems. Lana simply wasn't that interested. Beyond that, Clark would always stand between them. Chloe tried to maintain their friendship, but Lana probably knew that push come to shove, she was Clark's friend first.

She did have Lois. She loved her cousin, would do almost anything for her, but for Clark, Chloe had no limitations.

Which was one of the problems.

Up until now, Clark hadn't wanted or at least hadn't been ready to trade their friendship for something bigger and so Chloe kept her heart in check. It had caused so many problems when her emotions threatened to spill past friendship. Safer, she thought, to file away feelings that could cause irreparable harm to their friendship.

However, during last night's kiss, she couldn't dream that something that splendid could bring pain. If Clark hadn't paused and pulled back for that brief moment, Chloe wasn't sure what might have happened. Maybe something wonderful, but the unknown was terrifying.

She was scared, not only of getting her emotions bruised, but of losing Clark altogether. Once she let her feelings free, there was no putting them back in the box.

If Clark changed his mind or was confused over what he was feeling…she wouldn't survive.

Physically, bodily, she'd still walk around, still go about her life, but at her core she would be changed, a part of her soul lost. She would have to leave him behind or face being torn apart until she couldn't function on any level.

Chloe had no limit on what she would do for Clark. The only way to save their relationship may be to deny her chance at finally becoming the women of his dreams.

* * *

Clark stayed away far longer than he planned. He left shortly after dawn and let emotions rule his feet and they carried him to the end of the South American continent and back. He lost track of time somewhere south of Ecuador. 

He ran mindlessly, trying to escape a gnawing fear. He didn't stop until an amazing vista of the Andes Mountains overwhelmed his senses. Drinking in the abrupt contrasts of the jagged rocks, delicate clouds in the blue sky, and the bold color of the green glacial waters, Clark wished Chloe were there to share the view and the moment.

Wherever he went, whatever he did, he wanted to share it with Chloe. It was there, somewhere in Peru, fifteen thousand feet above sea level, where he stopped running from what he wanted and started planning how to get it.

He missed the afternoon meeting at Star Labs, missed dinner, missed dusk fading into twilight and was chagrined to find it far into the wee hours of the morning when he cruised back into Metropolis. He didn't regret the time he'd taken to know his heart and mind, but now that his thoughts were clear, he didn't want to wait to talk to Chloe. As he approached the darkened brownstone though, it looked like he wasn't going to have much of a choice but to save that conversation for tomorrow.

He had just crossed the threshold when his normal hearing picked up a whispery sound. He listened harder and identified the noise—the deep breathing of someone sleeping—not any someone, Chloe, and she was close.

Clark found her curled up on the couch, still dressed, and clutching one of his pillows. Like an irresistible force, she drew him to her side.

She'd waited up for him.

Clark knelt in front of her slumbering form as he felt a crooked smile tug at the corner of his mouth. Well, she had tried to wait up for him.

Her hair fell across her face. Clark brushed the silky strands back, letting his fingertips skim over her petal soft skin. He let his hand linger on her cheek, lightly stroking the side of her face. She took a deep breath and like a kitten, turned her face into his touch.

Smiling, her eyelids fluttered open and by the moonlight filtering in through the window pain, she saw Clark leaning over her. Her smile deepened and with a sleepy sigh, she said his name, "Clark."

"Hey," he whispered back. His pleasure turned to regret a moment later when she stiffened and pulled back from his touch. Scooting up until she was sitting, she put physical and emotional distance between them.

Disappointed, but not surprised, Clark uncoiled from his crouched position and switched on a light before joining her on the couch. "We should talk," he announced unceremoniously.

"You missed the meeting at Star Labs," she countered.

Clark ran a hand though his hair and sighed. That was not what he wanted to talk about and he strongly suspected Chloe knew it too. "I know. I'm sorry."

"I understand. I can fill you in. You should know…"

"No," he jumped up, slashing his hands through the air. "Don't tell me."

She squinted her eyes and tilted her head, puzzled, "You don't want to know?"

"Yes, I want to know, but not now. I don't want to waste time on small talk."

Perturbed, Chloe rose to her feet, "The Star Lab meeting wasn't meaningless small talk. Our future rests in their hands."

"No, it doesn't," he insisted.

Chloe ground her teeth, "I told you, I'm not using the tagging device and leaving without you. It's not an option."

"And I told you I couldn't let you go," he said, deflating her anger. "That's not what I meant." He took her hands in his. "I'm saying our future depends on us, you and me, not on which universe we are in currently."

Hope, longing, and pragmatism raced over her expressive face and jockeyed for control. Practicality won out. She pulled her hands free and backed away. "As much as I would like to believe that, I can't."

"Why not?" Clark demanded.

"Because…I just can't." Chloe squared her shoulders. "I won't be something you've settled for: not here, not at home, not anywhere else. I can't go from best friend to consolation prize."

"Is this about Lana?" Clark shook his head, "Lana is not the one I've been trying to get back home to, you're the one."

Once again, conflicting feelings openly warred across her mobile features before she firmly quashed whatever softer emotions threatened to win. She took another couple steps back, shaking her head in disbelief. "Look, you shouldn't rush into saying things when you can't be sure what you feel. How do you know this isn't just a complex case of home sickness?"

Clark scowled. Chloe shrugged, trying to affect indifference to his frustration and moved forward with her cold logic. "I'm the only connection you have to home, to places and people you love. I understand that, but I won't be a substitute or someone for which you settle," she repeated.

"Are you done?" He asked, his voice sounding clipped and irritated.

"No," She turned and walked a few paces farther away, the placid façade and uncaring attitude she tried to maintain rapidly slipping away. Her hands started trembling at her sides. She clenched her fists. "I've worked hard to be in a place where I could be the friend you need, one who could be honestly supportive of what or whom it takes for you to be happy."

"Are you saying we would be better off just staying friends?"

"I'm saying anything else is a big risk." She stopped and pressed her palms against the sides of her heated face and then briefly over her mouth, trying to still the tremor in her chin. "Clark, I need you in my life," she confessed, her words edging past the break in her voice, "you're not thinking straight and if you and I didn't work out that way, I don't know if I'd be strong enough to go back to being just a friend, even a best friend and it would kill me to lose you."

"Are you done?" He asked more gently this time.

From across the room, she nodded feeling a knife slice repeatedly through her heart as she pushed away her dreams for the final time. It hurt, a physical ache too big for tears and inside, her shredded heart was screaming for mercy, but she was resolute.

She couldn't give in. Clark was confused; he must be, why else would he have stayed away all day. Chances were this offer would never come again, but it was better this way, it had to be. If she gave in now while he was uncertain and he changed his mind or worse, pretended he wanted to be with her out of guilt, it would destroy her and she didn't know if this time she would be able to recover.

"The answer is no."

"What?" She asked turning back around in confusion. She didn't remember a question. Clark took a step toward her.

"No," he spoke calmly, but firmly. "I'm not confused, I'm not interested in being just friends," he shook his head, "won't pretend anymore." His eyes raked over her form from head to toe, taking in her mussed hair, her flushed cheeks, the shadowy place exposed by the v-neck of her tank top, the soft denim clinging snugly to her rear, and the pale lavender polish on her bare toes. She felt exposed.

He took another step. His gaze was feral. "No. You're not a substitute for anyone." He kept walking slowly her way, each step a deliberate message that he was coming for her.

"Your fire, your dedication, your strength, your unlimited capacity for caring," the corner of his mouth tilted up, "your sarcastic tongue." He closed the gap between them.

"There's no one else like you." He ran his hands up her forearms, past her elbows and held the soft skin of her upper arms. He could feel her tense muscles flex and strain, not trying to flee, but not knowing how to be still. "I'm not settling." Emotion deepened his tone. "I've finally found the courage to say what I've been feeling for a very long time." Chloe watched his eyes; she could see the truth of what he was saying written in his eyes.

"Chloe, you are my best friend, but so much more than that. Always so much more," he whispered. "You are a part of who I am and part of who I'm going to be."

"Clark, I…"

"Shh, no, it's my turn." She bit her lower lip and waited for him to continue. Clark felt his heart began to pound. She was so close to walking away; he had to make her believe. "There was a time that I couldn't look past our friendship. I was blind to many things, blind to what you meant to me, blind to even the kind of man I am and what my place should be in the world.

That's changed. I see who I am now and slipping into this universe has shown me who I could be, but only with you at my side."

A skeptical flash lit her gold green eyes and had him swallowing hard. He cupped the side of her face; he needed to make certain she was listening to him, paying attention. "I need you; have needed you for so long, long before I'd have ever admitted it. You make me feel whole and this isn't some crazy kind of homesickness talking."

He took a deep breath and dived in all the way, "I love you Chloe Anne Sullivan. Not just love you, but I am irreversibly in love with you."

She gasped and knocked aside the hand holding her face. She shook her head vehemently, "No, you don't really mean that," and tried to turn away from Clark. This time he wouldn't let her go. He caught her hands in his and pressed them against his chest, holding them to his heart.

"I do mean it. Chloe, you know me better than anyone ever has, look at me, you'll know that I mean it." She refused to look at him and instead twisted her head away as far as possible, keeping her eyes tightly shut.

"Please Chloe, please look at me," he begged. He felt her slipping away. "I know I've made mistakes in the past. I wasted time, far too much time, chasing something that wasn't real and that makes you doubt what I'm saying, but I need you to believe me. I love you and that won't change in any universe."

Chloe's battered heart raged against her sound restraints, desperate to be free. Tension encased her body, reflecting her internal conflict.

"Clark, I…I want to believe you," she said, still refusing to open her eyes, "but, what about today? Why did you leave?"

"Why did you run last night? Don't deny you felt something real."

She stayed silent.

An eternal minute ticked past.

Chloe stood stiffly, not giving an inch, but he didn't release her. His panic continued to build until he was afraid that maybe she could deny feeling anything at all and then suddenly, the rigidity in her muscles slid away. Her hair spilled forward as she lowered her forehead until it rested against their clasped hands.

When she spoke, he only heard her due to his enhanced hearing. He felt the whisper of her breath at the same time as she delivered her simple confession. "I was afraid. Still am."

"Yeah, me too," he whispered back, "but I'm not about to walk away or let you walk away from the best thing that could happen to either one of us because of fear. I learned a lot about fear this week."

Clark kept one hand entwined with hers and freed his other arm to wrap around her waist, pulling her closer. She leaned into him and found a new headrest against his shoulder.

He held her just a fraction tighter and continued. "I was scared to death I'd never see you again, never be able to tell you what you mean to me, and never get a chance to hold you again, to hear you voice, or be on the receiving end of one of your mega watt smiles." He smiled into her hair.

"Then, like a miracle, you were here. Still, the thought that maybe I'd waited too long and you stopped caring for me was terrifying. Now I have an even bigger fear."

Chloe lifted her head and arched her neck, finally daring to look up at him: her eyes open, her heart wide, and searching the windows to his soul for truth. She was ready to hear him. "What is it?" She asked.

"That no matter what I say, you won't believe me." He met her searching gaze unflinchingly. "That's what I spent the day trying to figure out, not how I feel about you, but how to make you to trust me one more time."

Chloe wet her lips, "What did you decide?"

"That I can't _make_ you trust me," he told her earnestly. "Even with all of my abilities, I can't force you to believe me. I don't even have a perfect sentence or magical phrase. I can only tell you I love you - that's not going to change - and hope you decide we are worth the gamble."

Clark raised his hand and skimmed his fingers over her cheek, unable to resist touching her more intimately. "I know I'm asking you to take what seems like a huge risk, make a leap of faith, but I promise; I won't let you fall. I'll be there to catch you."

"Clark, I…," Chloe faltered with what she was going to say. She couldn't deny what she read in Clark's eyes. He wasn't confused. She didn't need to save him from himself. Chloe clutched the front of his shirt tightly in her fists as a deep understanding washed over her.

She didn't need to save him from himself, but she was the only one who could save him from the fall. Chloe had feared she'd already run out of the kind of courage it took to blindly leap for his love, but this wasn't only about her. Clark had already taken his leap and while his hide may have been virtually invulnerable, Chloe knew his heart was as fragile as hers.

Chloe had no limit on what she would do for Clark. She'd loved him since he was a gangly youth with a sweet smile and a curious mind. The only way to save their relationship was to embrace her chance of becoming the women of his dreams. On her own she may have lacked the courage to risk her heart again but Clark at her side made her stronger, braver, and more certain than ever that he was worth any risk.

She slid her hands up over his chest and twined them around his neck, her smile blossomed and her heart shone in her eyes, "Ok," she whispered leaning in for a kiss, "I'll jump."

_Author's note: Feedback is essential to survival. Please review. (Here's a bribe, I promise to pick up right where this chapter ends off.) Next chapter, the mystery of Lois's dreams are revealed._


	35. Illumination, part 1

_Author's note: A, a new record for reviews! Chapter 34 garnered 21 comments, which is - a) Proof that you understand the delicate psyche of a fanfic author - b) A sign that I should have tried bribes long ago - c) A testament to the profound patience in the heart of all Chlarkers. Of course the correct answer is – d) all of the above._

_As promised, we pick up right where we left off._

Chloe slid her hands up over his chest and twined them around his neck, her smile blossomed and her heart shone in her eyes, "Ok," she whispered leaning in for a kiss, "I'll jump."

Euphoria spun up from around Clark's heart. He plunged his hand deeper into her hair and tightened his hold on slender waist, meeting her advance hungrily. Her arms curled around his neck and one of her cool hands slid through the hair at his nape. Her simple caress sent him shuddering.

He craved her touch, her taste, her intrinsic citrus and Chloe scent. Clark felt unsteady. He was still reeling from the possibility of never having the chance to show Chloe the depths of his feeling, of her never believing. He had come too close. He seized his opportunity to show her now.

He told her she was beautiful by his rapidly beating heart and cherished by the kisses he dropped on each eyelid. He told her she was adored by the brush of his cheek against hers. He let her know he wouldn't let her go by the steady pressure of his are around her waist, holding her body flush to his.

"Chloe, Chloe," he murmured against her lips before leaving restraint behind. He slanted his mouth against hers and poured his heart out, never wanting to stop or let go. She responded to him eagerly and for all her earlier reticence, held nothing back. She strained in his arms trying press closer, soul-to-soul, heart to heart, body to body.

He was caught up in the chaotic whirl, but at the center of the maelstrom, there was no confusion. He'd built his emotions on a rock solid foundation. None of the insecurities he associated in the past with romance threatened. Together, he and Chloe created a haven from doubt.

Something crashed to the ground behind them. Clark whirled around, instinctively keeping Chloe shielded from a possible threat. The vase next to the dinning room doors lay shattered on the ground. Chloe, quicker to identify the cause of the broken glass, cried out, "Lois, are you alright?"

Lois froze in her tracks. There was little sense in trying to sneak back into the kitchen now. Finding Clark and Chloe finally working out their differences and finally starting a relationship wasn't a surprise to Lois, she'd suspected it was something both of them wanted, but waking in on them while they were enraptured with each other wasn't exactly what she was expecting either. She meant to give them their privacy, but she was far too shaken by her latest dream and since the moment was broken, she stopped to question Clark as she'd intended.

"Do you have any idea where Clark is right now?" When she'd fallen asleep, she'd been in his arms. Sometime during the night, he had to answer Superman's call and while normally she wouldn't begrudge the world's need of her husband, right now she didn't know if she could hold on without him.

Chloe narrowed her eyes, took in Lois's ashen complexion and noted her trembling hands. Her concern skyrocketed. "Lois, has something happened? Are Mr. and Mrs. Kent all right?"

"Their fine, still sound asleep when I passed their room."

Chloe glanced up at Clark, sharing her concern with a look. He nodded almost imperceptibly and whooshed out the door. "Clark will find him." She stepped gingerly around the brightly colored glass shards at Lois's feet and linked her arm lightly through Lois's, leading her back to the bright and cheery kitchen. "What's this all about?"

Under the bright fixtures of the kitchen, Lois looked even more haggard and strained. "Chloe, I…it's. I'm not sure. It can't be real, but, I think…" She let Chloe prod her into sitting. Normally Lois garnered great comfort from this room, but now all she could feel was cold.

"Lois, what's happening? You look like you've seen a ghost." Lois flinched; Chloe was closer to the truth than she could know.

* * *

Four hours later Lois answered the front door with her husband at her side. Chloe had stayed with her until Clark was able to find Superman. After dealing with a derailment in Spain, he went to assist with a fire down in the warehouse district. Clark slipped into his costume and the Superfriend sent Superman home.

When he arrived, Chloe left to take care of a couple errands Lois asked of her. She was gamely ready to do anything she could to help, but how picking up an assortment of sweet rolls and retrieving a shoebox from Lois's desk at the Planet was helping remained fuzzy. It was funny, while Lois was waiting, she couldn't provide a coherent reason for her requests let alone explain to Chloe what she'd discovered, but as soon as the man who'd made her Mrs. Clark Kent came through the door, she couldn't stop talking.

He gathered her close while she disgorged word upon word as if they had been threatening to bust down a door. She was almost babbling, railing against fate until she was exhausted. He listened and when her story was through, he carried her up to their master bathroom and stepped both of them into the shower. He held her tightly in the steamy heat while the emotional storm she'd fought against overtook her. Lois clung to Clark knowing she could fall to pieces because he would never let her break. When her tears ended, they decided she would keep her morning appointment with her mother and even try to move it up.

Her parents were early risers and agreed to come over at eight.

"Mom, Dad, thank you for coming by early."

"We're here," Ellen Lane said patting a hand over her carefully tinted chin length hair before unwrapping her silk scarf and removing her camel colored coat, "but I still don't understand what could possibly be so urgent that I couldn't have waited two hours and come at ten like we planned. I haven't even had any coffee and your father is going to be late for his meeting."

Used to her mother's habitual carping, Lois turned to her father, "I'm sorry Daddy, but it's important that you're here too."

"Oh, don't worry about it pumpkin," Sam Lane said dismissing his wife's complaint. He was a tall, fit, dapper man with silver tufts of hair on his balding head and a thick white mustache, "it's just an excuse for a bunch of crusty old scientists to get up on stage and feel important. Half of them are idiots and the other half is…Oh, are those raspberry tarts?" Sam Lane handed Clark his coat and made a beeline to the living room.

"Sam, you didn't even say hello to Clark," Ellen chided her husband. She shook her dark blond hair in hopeless disapproval, "After how many years and he still has the manners of a six year old, but that's okay," she held her hand up in surrender, "I didn't go to all those AA meetings and not learn to the difference between what I can and cannot change." She scowled, seeing Sam pluck a pastry off the platter and consume it in one bite. "For god's sake Sam," she barked, her hands going to her hips, "at least use a plate."

Lois tossed Clark a panicked look and started to seriously regret sending his parents, Clark and Chloe away for the morning, but while Jonathan and Martha were wonderful at distracting her mother from her constant complaining, Clark and Chloe would be too hard to explain, especially Chloe.

Clark took Ellen's arm and escorted her to the living room, "Can I get you some coffee?"

"Coffee. Yes, marvelous." She settled on the couch next to her still munching husband. "Sam, would you like a cup to go with your what, third Danish?" He nodded affably. Ellen rolled her eyes and spoke for him, "Yes, he would like a cup as well." Clark reached for the pot sitting on the table between an array of baked goods and a shoebox and poured for his in-laws, but not for Lois. Her mother noticed his oversight.

"Lois, you're not having any coffee? Are you sick? Oh, my god, you're pregnant! Sam, she's pregnant!"

"Hmm?" Sam looked up still licking white glaze off his fingers.

"No! No, no I'm not."

"You're not?" She queried clearly disappointed. "Then why on earth are you not drinking coffee? You always drink coffee. If two things could define a person, for you it's working at the Planet and drinking coffee." Ellen reached over the coffee table and patted Clarks arm, "and she's very fond of you too." Lois closed her eyes and counted to ten. It didn't do much good.

"Fine, I'll have coffee, happy?" Hot liquid sloshed around in her cup as she lifted it to take a sip. Clark reached up to steady her shaking hand and then took the rattling cup and saucer and set it back down. Lois leaned into his shoulder for a moment to steady herself.

"Ellen, our baby girl obviously has something important to tell us, maybe we should let her."

Lois lifted her head from Clark's strong shoulder. He took her hand in his and squeezed, reminding her that no matter what, she wasn't alone.

She took a deep breath and turned back to face her parents. "I found out about Chloe Sullivan." Her mother lost all her color and latched onto her husband's hand. Her father dropped his half-eaten tart and wrapped his other arm around his wife. Lois couldn't tell whom he was trying to comfort more.

"I need you to tell me about my cousin who died in the car accident." Lois paused and gathered up the courage she needed to finish what she started. "I need you to tell me about Lois."

Instead of answering, her mother – the only one she remembered- started to hyperventilate. "I can't, can't…Sam, I can't breathe."

"I'll get a bag!" He cried jumping up and dashing into the kitchen only to dash back out. "Where do you keep your bags?" Clark went to help him.

Ellen stood up gasping, "No, no, she wasn't supposed to know. Sam, you said she'd never remember." She accused her husband.

"I said there was a ninety-eight percent chance she'd never remember."

Clark returned with a small paper bag. "Here, Mrs. Lane, breathe in this." Ellen used the bag, inhaling and exhaling rapidly for a moment, before ripping it away and scowling. "I need a drink," she announced and pointed at her husband. "Sam, get me a drink."

"Ellen it's eight in the morning and you're an alcoholic."

"This," she tossed her arms up in the air in a sweeping motion, "is not covered by _any_ of the twelve steps." Sam rubbed his hand wearily over his face, walked over to the brandy decanter in the corner, and poured a drink.

Lois gasped, "Daddy you can't give her a drink, she's an alcoholic!"

"I know she's an alcoholic, I just said that." He tipped the drink back and downed it, gasping as the brandy burned down his throat. "But I'm not."

"Sam Lane, how could you do such a cruel thing? First, you mislead me about her amnesia and now you taunt me with my weaknesses. I…I can't breathe. I'm going to faint. No, I'm probably having a heart attack, or a stroke, maybe an embolism. That's it. A blood clot is at this very moment about to burst and you deny me the last bit of earthly comfort I could have."

"Oh, mother, get a hold of yourself," Lois shouted, her mother's histrionics pushing aside any sympathy. Her mother gasped and clutched at her chest. For a second Lois wondered if she truly might be having chest pains.

"She called me mother!" Ellen's knees seemed to buckle beneath her as she sat down hard on the couch. In a softer voice she repeated, "You still called me mother," before letting her head fall forward into her hands and bursting into noisy tears. Sam came and sat beside her, pulling her into his arms as she continued to weep.

Her falling tears doused Lois's last flickering flame of hope. She no longer harbored any doubts; her interpretation of last night's dream was correct.

Last night, like every night that came since the name Chloe Sullivan gained meaning, the same plaguing dream visited Lois. Same little girls, same game, same matching pink and yellow stuffed bunnies, same heartbreak as one child was dragged from the other.

That's where all familiarity ended, because this night, the dream didn't end with the slamming of the front door. Earlier, Lois had watched scenes in her reoccurring dream unfold like some omnipotent observer, but once the door closed, she began living it.

The dream continued in a jumble of fractured moments. A heaping dose of clarity mixed with confusion and terror.

She was outside, a hand heavy on her shoulder. The sky was laden with dark clouds and the blustery wind grabbed at her light brown, shoulder length hair. It twisted and whipped stands into her eyes, momentarily blinding her. With Mo still prodding her forward, she stumbled, only keeping her balance by flailing her arms about, but in the process, her precious yellow Lois rabbit was flung to the ground. "My bunny!" She cried out.

Suddenly, she felt like she was tumbling.

_Metal ground against metal and a child's scream rang over and over in her ears._

_Silence. _

Her world shifted. She was back outside the house. She wanted her rabbit. She wanted Lois. She wanted little Lucy and Mommy and Daddy. She wanted to be home. Why did they have to leave?

Mo shook her hard by the shoulders, "Chloe quit crying right now and get in the car." Chloe felt her lower lip quaver. Until a few weeks ago, Mo never yelled at her. She'd only started since Mommy and Daddy told her in very serious voices that she was going to stay with Mo.

Mo told her to start calling her mother and now she wanted her to leave, maybe forever.

"But, but Lois. I need to get Lois."

Mo gave her another shake. "I said quit crying and if I hear one more word out of you, you'll never see Lois again."

_That tumbling sensation again. _

_Lights swirled. Acrid smoke smoldered._

_Pain. Sharp, stinging pain, biting into her face, pounding in her head._

_Rewind_.

"I said quit your crying and if I hear one more word out of you, you'll never see Lois again." Fresh tears welled in her eyes, but Chloe kept silent. It wasn't fair, she thought. Mo was crying harder that she was.

"Get in the car," she told her before fishing out her keys and going behind the car to open the trunk. She started digging around for something.

Feeling pitiful and mutinous, Chloe opened the car door, but didn't get in. She stood with her arms crossed, staring mournfully at her bunny twenty feet away and at the little house they'd only recently moved into. Inside, the curtains twitched and Lois' face peeped out at her.

Another scene flashed before her.

_Lois huddled at her feet, peeping up from under a green blanket. The rumble of an engine. The bump of the road. Mo fumbling with the wipers and her tears. "Sorry baby, things have changed." Her words came out muffled and distorted, as if Mo was speaking under water. "We can't come back for a long time." _

_Crack of lighting, crash of thunder. _

_Rain sheeting down. Car sliding._

_Blackness, and back again._

The curtains fell back into place and a moment later, Lois silently snuck out the side door and scooped up out of the gravel the forlorn stuffed animal. Mo still searched for something in the trunk.

Not for long.

Hurry Lois, hurry, Chloe urged her, waving her arms and biting her lip. Mo slammed the trunk shut. Lois dove into the car and under a blanket. "Buckle up." Mo called over her shoulder as she slid in the front. She turned the key and started the car.

_Dark. Can't see, too much rain. "Mo, I want to go home, we have to go home." _

"_Be quiet Chloe, I told you to be quiet!" Can't see, too fast, _

_Screeching brakes. Squealing tires._

_Spinning, spinning. _

_One scream, two screams, three screams._

"_LOIS!!!!" _

_Topsy turvy, upside down, over and over, round and round._

_IMPACT!_

_Stillness. _

_Wind, rain, pain. "Lois?" _

_Lost. Alone. Gone._

_Sharp, metallic scent. Tinkling glass. "Lois?"_

_Never again. Can't think, can't speak. Shame._

_Hurt. Hot, sticky, wet. "Lois?" _

_Black. No, it's red. See red. No! No! _

_Won't see it! No! My fault. Can't be true. Too much red. _

"Lois? Lois?" Clark cupped her face in his hands. "Lois, are you alright?"

She blinked and jolted back to the present. Clark's beautiful brown eyes studied her in concern. Love washed over her, replacing the bleak despair conjured by her memories. She covered his hand with hers and pressed a kiss to his palm. Clark wrapped his arm around her and pulled her closer to his side.

"Yeah, I will be."

_Author's note: Ok, so, I'm sorry to leave this without a full explanation, but that will come in part 2. I'll admit it, the second half isn't finished yet but I started to feel pretty horrible about the delay, hence breaking it in two. Next chapter: answers to all your questions (Hey, feel free to give me all your questions), we will also check in with the other universe, and hopefully back with Chlark too. Thanks as always._


	36. Illumination, part 2

_Author's note: Excuse for the extraordinary delay? I'm not even going to bother, but I will offer my apologies and my profound thanks that you came by to read this anyway. My chapter went so long (over 6500 words) that I broke it into two, which is kind of funny since I broke the previous chapter in two also. Good news is I just need to edit the next part before I post it. Look for it by Thursday. _

"So you…you remember?" Her father asked hesitantly, sounding old and broken. The lines on his face seemed deeper than ever before. Sam Lane wasn't a young man anymore: he had already past the age most men retire.

A part of Lois wished she could tell him, never mind, it's all right. It's all in the past and none of it matters now, but that wasn't who she was. She had to know the truth. "Some." Lois confirmed. "Enough to know my name is a lie, but not enough to understand why."

Her father continued to look dazed and her mother's face remained hidden in her hands. Seeking Clark's strength and support, she gripped his hand tightly and knowing she had it, Lois pressed for answers.

"I need you to tell me how this happened. I'm trying hard, very hard not to make assumptions. I imagine losing a daughter must have been devastating, but," she paused and swallowed hard, unable to hold back all of her anger and hurt, "but how could you just strip me of who I am and use me as a replacement?" She ended bitterly.

"No, no, it's was never like that." Her mother wailed raising her head and vehemently shaking it in denial. "You were both our babies."

Lois set her jaw, refusing to be softened. "Moira Elizabeth Sullivan is listed as mother of the deceased on the death certificate."

"I don't care who gave birth to you." Ellen snapped. "You were ours. We brought you home. We fed you. We changed you and walked the halls at night while you cried. You were ours!" She vowed passionately.

Lois blinked back a sting of tears. "So…she gave me up?"

Sam shook his head wearily. "No, it would have been far easier if she had. There were complications during the delivery. Moira was in no condition to look after a baby. We couldn't be at the hospital all the time; Lois was only a few months old. We took you home. Moira remained hospitalized for another two weeks."

Ellen pulled a tissue out of her purse to mop at her tear-streaked face. "The hospital released her and she came to stay with us at first, but Moira was very weak and needed more attention than I could give her with two infants in the house. She went back west and stayed with your Grandmother for several months. When she was strong enough, she enrolled full time at a nearby private college."

Lois frowned and shook her head in disbelief. "What?"

"I know what you're thinking. How could a mother just walk away from her child? But you have to understand, Moira was very young, the baby of the family and everything happened to her very fast. She met Gabe while still in high school and got pregnant before she graduated. Mother was furious, but as soon as Moira turned eighteen she and Gabe got married. They were living with his Grandfather when Gabe died."

"Great-Grandfather…I think I remember him, he met Nellie Bly as a child." Lois shook her head to clear away the fuzzy memory and refocused on the important details. "How did Gabe die?"

Her father answered. "He got sick, a bad flu that turned to pneumonia. He picked up a secondary infection at the hospital. He was gone in a few days. Moira came to stay with us afterwards."

Ellen mopped at her tears. "She was utterly despondent. I could barely get her to eat. We thought with her pregnancy so near to term it would be good for her to be around another infant, to perk up her interest, but nothing helped. She was just as listless after giving birth and for a while, I thought she might simply fade away, but going back home and falling into her old routine must have helped. We took it as a good sign when she started thinking of school and her future again; she was always such a bright girl."

"But she didn't want me." Lois stated flatly and leaned closer to Clark. He continued to hold her hand, squeezing it gently and rubbing his thumb over her knuckles.

Ellen tilted her head and sighed. "I think it was easier for her to pretend nothing had happened: the pregnancy, her marriage, and Gabe's death; it was too much. In her own way, she cared for you. She knew you were loved and wanted. She came to visit almost every year and enjoyed being an aunt to Lois. Somehow it was easier for everyone when she treated you the same."

"We called her Mo, didn't we?"

"Yes, neither of you could say Moira."

Lois shook her head and felt the wave of frustration she'd been trying to hold back rush forward. She was getting a detailed history lesson and yet she still didn't have the vital answers. She asked for them bluntly. "How did I go from Chloe to Lois? Why can't I remember Lois when I can remember countless details from before I was five?"

Ellen turned to Sam, nodding at him to give the specifics. "I scoured the medical community and consulted with the top practitioners in all fields. The specialists I spoke with said you likely had a rare combination of amnesia, so rare, several were green with envy over my find."

At Lois's puzzled look he hastily explained. "I kept who you were confidential, passed you off as part of a series of case studies to further research in the human mind. Anyway, the most accurate term for your condition was systematized dissociative and reverse dissociative hysterical amnesia aggravated by an initial case of trauma."

"What does that mean?" A note of fear crept in to her voice. With a label that long, even if she wasn't crazy, she might go insane trying to figure it out.

Clark squeezed her hand and answered for them. A couple years back he'd done an immense amount of study into the subject of amnesia. Lois had hit her head, lost her memory (evidently not for the first time) and wandered away only to turn up thinking she was Wanda Detroit, a fictional third-rate lounge singer out of Lois's own never finished novel. Later, she recovered a great deal of her personal memories, omitting only one crucial aspect of her life, their love for each other. During that frightening time, Clark attempted to ease his feelings of helplessness by learning everything he could about amnesia. He was close to an expert.

Clark tried to break it down simply. "Hysterical refers to memory loss brought on by an emotional cause rather than a physical trama injury, the mind can block what is too painful. Systematized amnesia is a loss of memory in a specific category, like when you remembered me from the office, but not our personal relationship of engagement. Dissociative encompasses a state where the victim distances or no longer identifies with personal history, though usually it doesn't erase identity. While I've never heard the term before, I suspect reverse dissociative would mean identifying with or taking on someone else's personal history."

Lois froze. "Wait. I no longer recognized my personal history, but took on someone else's? Are you telling me I'm the one that changed my name, like I did that time with Wanda Detroit?"

Sam Lane leaned forward scratching the side of his face. "That's partly the case. Though it's always been unclear whether the identity change came about as a direct result of a deep subconscious choice or mainly due to repetitive suggestion."

"Repetitive suggestion, what do you mean?"

"While I believe certain conditions in your situation pointed to a hysterical and dissociative break, during a particularly vulnerable stage you were repeatedly told you were Lois Lane."

"Why would you do that? Why would anybody do that?"

Sam frowned, his shoulders sagging. He exchanged troubled looks with his wife before admitting, "Because we thought you were Lois."

* * *

_In another world..._

Bruce Wayne stood with his back to Victor Davinhoe and Milton Hamlish as they worked to overcome the latest issue in reactivating the AU-Ray. He traced the edge of the large clock face sitting in the middle of the loft, making note of the hidden switch no doubt accessing Oliver's special accessory room. He turned away for now. He'd continue his exploration when his associates were elsewhere. Bruce felt no remorse over finessing his way into Queen's Metropolis Tower apartment, but he hesitated over unnecessarily exposing another's secrets.

He might have even asked permission to be there had Ollie been in town. His office reported he was overseas and unavailable, but Bruce figured he was off running with his boy's club again. He'd left orders for Queen to contact him immediately. Didn't really matter though. The way Bruce saw it, Oliver owed him for tangling him up with Miss Sullivan in the first place. It was kismet that the clock tower had the sufficient power supply and connections they needed to reinstall the AU-Ray.

AU-Ray. A machine that sliced the fabric of space and reality and opened a portal to another world.

Bruce shook his head at the concept and took a liberal swallow of the thirty-year old scotch Oliver thoughtfully left behind. This was insane. Maybe he should have just walked away from the whole project. He rattled the ice cubes in his glass.

Whom was he kidding? He'd save questioning his sanity until after satisfying his curiosity as to how some farm boy from Podunk, USA could inspire such loyalty. He prided himself on being an excellent judge of character and the indomitable Miss Sullivan had not struck him as the sort to sacrifice everything for just anybody. Bruce finished the last of his drink.

What though, did he know? The woman had all but admitted she was in love. What did he know about love? Not a whole lot, he acknowledged to himself, but he knew it could make fools out of the most intelligent and you didn't have to dip your toes too deep in the pond before it affected your judgment. This whole debacle was a prime example.

He'd misjudged her level of determination. Worse yet, he'd let his ego blind him to the possibility of her duplicity. He'd played the part of the dupe to perfection. He'd already known where her loyalties rested, but he'd been intrigued and if he admitted it, gratified by the sudden show of interest her kiss had indicated.

Bruce Wayne, billionaire playboy, wasn't use to being ignored. Between his money and his looks, it just didn't happen. That aspect of his disguise apparently needed an overhaul; he had started believing his own press. She should never have gotten the drop on him let alone left him rolling on the floor.

She'd know just how to use the stun gun most effectively too, a direct and steady currant to the chest. He had not been able to speak let alone direct the AU boys for a few minutes. Senator Kent stepped in and marshaled Davinhoe and Hamlish into action. Once they were into the break down protocol and getting the lab equipment ready for transport, then she turned her attention to him.

Martha Kent didn't exactly offer an apology, but displayed diplomatic skills that would take her far in the political realm should she choose. She helped him to his feet and reminded him quickly it was in his best interests to get out of the Metropolis University subbasement before discovery. She also made mention of the revolutionary applications that could come from crossing into other universes.

The strongest weapon in her arsenal hadn't been her natural talent for politics though. That had been her undisguised desperation. No matter what he wanted to do after that humiliating incident with the stun gun and a small blond, Bruce couldn't turn away from a mother's grief. He was, as Martha Kent put it, her last hope.

He put aside any lingering embarrassment and started assisting with the transfer of equipment. They got out and were across town at the tower before campus security ever came looking. Senator Kent left them then for a Saturday morning meeting with Lionel Luther. That had put Bruce solely in charge of the nutty professors, a position he'd held since.

Three days of their non-stop bickering and bellyaching was driving him toward insanity. Lives were at stake and yet they couldn't seem to let go of their petty squabbles. He knew from experience they tended to wander off onto esoteric tangents unless kept focused, but he was in no mood to coddle these two now that he understood the extent of their mischief. That didn't matter though. They were his responsibility at least until the final retrieval.

Fortunately, that moment was getting closer. Davinhoe and Hamlish kept assuring him the damage done to the Au-Ray this time was relatively minor. They seemed certain they could begin following the retrieval schedule outlined by Ms. Sullivan by late tonight or tomorrow at the latest.

Zzst. Snap. "Ow! Dammit, not again."

Bruce sighed, examined his empty glass, and contemplated pouring a second shot of Ballantine's finest. He thought better of it when sparks and curses continued to fly. He set the cut crystal glass down and headed toward the mayhem. "What's going on?"

"Cut the relay switch to the second circuit box," Milton commanded.

Bruce went to a grey panel and above it flipped a now familiar switch. Acrid smoke curled from the panel and a few remaining blue white sparks floated toward the ground before winking out.

"That's the fifth time the circuits have overloaded. I thought you were reconfiguring the fuses?"

"I did, but we're getting some kind of phase overlap and there's too much resistance for the currant," Victor decided.

"I thought that was what the converter was for?"

"The converter is working fine." Milton scowled in disgust at the delicate connection to the third power port of the AU-Ray, now burned and twisted in his gloved hands. "The problem has to be at the substation. Or maybe a grounding issue."

Victor started nodding and grabbed a notepad to make notes. "The power flow might have completely stalled. Then the compensator worked to eliminate resistance where there wasn't any so when the voltage returned, the amperage spiked and we overloaded, only the new fuses are too heat resistant to automatically flip."

"Try tapping into the other power grid," Oliver suggested from the elevator as he rolled back the gate. "Always worked for me." He tucked his hands deep in the pockets of his slacks and inclined his head toward his "guests".

"I see you got my message," Bruce intoned.

Victor Davinhoe blinked at the new arrival, "Other power grid?"

"Yes. The panel is behind that bookcase. This building offers a fairly unique advantage of straddling two separate grids. I made sure I had access to both, but I'll bet Bruce here knew all about that."

"Naturally. Though I had assumed they were already working in tandem."

"I haven't spent near enough time in Metropolis for all the improvements I've planned. It's a simple enough adjustment as it is." Milton and Victor pushed back the bookcase and went to work. Oliver meandered toward the AU-Ray. "Mind telling me what this is all about?" He asked Bruce casually. "Weren't you going back to Gotham last Tuesday?"

"Something came up."

"Something that needs a great deal of power." Oliver circled the contraption and shook his head. "Just what is that thing?" He raised his eyebrows sardonically. "Now tell me Bruce, you haven't decided to simply put us all out of our misery, have you?" He tapped one side experimentally. "Doesn't look like a bomb."

Bruce crossed his arms and leaned back against a railing. "Bomb, no. But it has made a large impact on the lives of a couple of your acquaintances."

Oliver narrowed his eyes and bent closer to study an external link. He looked sharply at Bruce before abruptly heading across the room to the balcony. Bruce followed knowing it would afford more privacy. He shut the door and waited for Queen to react.

"It's the alloy. They used it to configure half the connections on that machine. How could they have gotten their hands on it?"

"Memory going already? You requested a special shipment."

"What? The only one I authorized was to Chloe…Chloe's involved in this?"

"Oh yes, the fetching Miss Sullivan is involved up to her very fetching neck. In fact, I'd say she found herself completely moved by the project," Bruce dryly added.

"If Sullivan is involved, I'm guessing Kent is somewhere close behind. Where are the dynamic duo?"

"Right, Kent. Your friendship was mentioned. Sorry, neither Kent nor Sullivan is currently available."

"They are not available? Has something gone wrong?"

Bruce smirked and rubbed at a spot on his chest. "Depends on whose definition of wrong you are using."

_Author's note: Remember to check in a couple days for the final part of this long and difficult chapter. I put some Chlark at the end of the next installment to lighten up a kind of depressing chapter. Let me know what you think so far._


	37. Illumination, part 3

_Author's note: I'm a head of schedule! If you didn't check out the chapter I posted yesterday, go back to #36. Every once and a while I get tricky and post chapters real close together. This should answer the remaining questions on how and why Lois became Lois. Thanks for reading! _

This was wrong, wrong, wrong. The more her parents explained how she went from being born Chloe Sullivan to taking the name Lois Lane, the more confused she became. "At the hospital you thought I was Lois? How is that possible?!"

"That's what the hospital told us. It's not like you two were so dissimilar," her father insisted defensively. "You both were about the same height, same haircut, your hair close to the same light brown color and there were so many bruises and cuts. Not to mention the swath of bandages around your head and then the swelling started."

"You were unconscious at first and wouldn't talk to anyone for days," her mother added and then closed her eyes in pain. "Look, I don't have a good excuse, a mother should know her own daughters no matter what, but I never questioned what we were told about you and," her voice broke, "I couldn't bring myself to look at…didn't want to remember my baby lying cold in the morgue." Her mother's brown eyes pleaded for forgiveness and understanding.

Understand? How could she understand? Shaking her head in disbelief, Lois held tighter to Clark's hand, her nails curling into his flesh to the point that if he wasn't invulnerable, she surely would have sliced into his skin. "Why would the hospital think I was Lois? Lois wasn't even supposed to be in the car." Her words caught in her throat and suddenly echoed in her head. Flashes of her dream flared brightly, a memory replayed.

_Lois huddled at her feet, peeping up from under a green blanket holding the sunny bunny tightly. _

_Screeching brakes. Squealing tires. Spinning, spinning. _

_Hot, sticky, wet. See red. No! No! Won't see it! No! My fault. _

_Too much red. Can't think, can't speak. Can't be true. _

A voice called to her. "Lois, Lois, stay with me." She blinked rapidly and her eyes refocused on her husband. She put a shaky hand to her mouth, recoiling in horror.

"It's my fault," she whispered. "I dropped my rabbit and Mo…Moira wouldn't let me go back for it, didn't even notice I lost it, but Lois…she saw, she knew. We both knew. I don't know how." Suddenly she wasn't talking about stuffed toys.

"She knew if I left, I'd never come back. I didn't think…I shouldn't have let her do it, shouldn't have practically begged." Unshed tears burned in her eyes. More pieces of her fragmented dream started making sense. "While Moira wasn't looking, Lois snuck outside, got my buttery yellow, Lois bunny and hid in the backseat of the car."

Lois took a deep breath before relinquishing Clark's hand and leaning forward to lift the top off the old shoebox sitting next to the coffee and pastry tray. She raised it's occupant out of the tissue paper and set it down on the coffee table.

The pink cotton candy colored toy immediately caught Ellen's eye. Her breath caught and she whispered its name, "Chloe."

Sam cocked his head and squinted. "Isn't that the stuffed rabbit you used to always lose…oh." The rabbit's significance sunk in.

Ellen watched Lois trail a finger lovingly over one crooked pink ear. Its satin lining worn in places to threads. "You kept it. I wondered sometimes, I figured you threw it out or finally lost it for good."

Clark flashed back to the day, just a little more than a week ago, when Lois introduced her treasured toy. Someone had just been at the Daily Planet and at the farm looking for someone named Chloe. He'd asked Lois if she knew anything.

"_Clark, the only Chloe I know is a stuffed rabbit the color of cotton candy." Lois rolled in her chair over to her desk, opened the bottom drawer, and pulled out a shoebox. "Meet Chloe," she said returning to Clark's desk and pulling out an obviously loved toy rabbit._

_Clark laughed and asked, "Lois, why do you have a pink bunny in your desk?"_

"_Cause Chloe lives at the Daily Planet," she answered matter of fact. Clark raised a single eyebrow. "Look, I've had her since I was four or five." She smoothed a hand over Chloe's worn fur and unconsciously made her do a few hops on the desk. "I used to constantly ask my parents, where's Chloe? Then I would try to persuade them to take me to the Daily Planet where I was certain she lived."_

Lois's voice refocused his attention. She was answering her mother. "I'd never throw away Chloe. This bunny was the most important thing I have from my childhood, I just never knew why." She blinked her eyes, trying to deal with the welling tears. "I never actually ever lost the toy did I?"

Her mother shook her head solemnly. "No, you always put Chloe back on a special shelf."

"When I asked where was Chloe, I wasn't really looking for the rabbit, was I," Lois asked more calmly than she felt, trying to hold her mother's gaze.

Ellen's eyes slid to the side. "I don't know," she answered evasively. "You were very attached to that bunny. You got it when you were four. It was your favorite toy until you were at least nine. You never went anywhere without it."

Lois shook her head, "No, that's not true. I got the yellow rabbit," she emphasized. "The pink bunny was Lois's."

"Yellow, pink," Ellen waved away the difference," neither of you would consider going anywhere without your rabbits."

"Lois did," she said gravely. "The day of the accident she left behind hers to save mine…to save me. She wasn't going to let me go alone and I let her." Lois shrugged. "I didn't even try to stop her. I hid her under a blanket in the back seat." The tears she'd been fighting slid down her cheeks. "It's my fault; she was there because of me. Lois wasn't supposed to be in the car." Ellen came around and sat gently beside Lois.

"Neither one of you should have been in that car," she said firmly. Ellen wiped the tears from her daughter's cheeks and smoothed back her rumpled hair as she use to do after a nightmare. "Moira wasn't supposed to take you away, either of you."

"But," Lois sniffed, "I'd already been with her for at least a couple weeks before…before the accident. I remember you and Daddy told me I was going to go stay with Mo. She wanted me to call her mom."

Ellen froze and her hand dropped to her lap. She stood stiffly and walked over to the window. The sun brightly streamed through the sheer curtains. She spoke without turning to face the room. "Moira had no right to ask that of you…I didn't know she…" She paused to collect her thoughts before continuing. "She'd just brought you home after a long visit. Two weeks. I should never have let you go with her at all. You were ours by then. Why couldn't she understand that?" Her voice trailed off.

Sam Lane cleared his voice and took up the tale. "More than five years had past. We never dreamed Moira would change her mind, but after she finished college, she came to us and asked for you back."

Ellen returned to the seat beside her husband and reaching for another tissue from her purse, blew her nose. "We told her no naturally. The nerve, after all that time, but she started to sue for custody, already had all sorts of claims and legal maneuvers in the works."

"The lawyer we hired was close to useless, claimed Moira never gave up her parental rights since she ensured her child was being well cared for. He's the one that suggested letting her have you for an extended visit, to let her understand the effort and responsibility that came with assuming the role of a full time parent."

"I thought it went well too. Moira and I were talking again and she brought you around to stay with Lois during most days. I didn't realize she'd already made up her mind and was interviewing for a job in Boston." Ellen crushed the tissue between her fingers. "Might as well have been Mars."

Clark spoke up. "Is that what happened that day? You found out Moira was planning on taking…," he glanced at his wife before continuing, "planning on taking Chloe out of state and away for good?"

Ellen nodded. "I was upset, said things. She threatened to leave right then, but I talked her into staying until Sam came home."

"But she didn't?"

"She left while I was on the phone." Ellen looked down and rubbed at her temples. "She might have overheard my call to Sam. I told him to have the lawyer get an injunction, to use whatever excuse it took to keep her from leaving town."

"Was that all?"

She hesitated and then admitted, "I also may have said something about Moira no longer being my sister …and that she would never see Chloe again."

Lois closed her eyes and tried to absorb the repercussions of her mother's cutting words, words that sent Moira rushing out of the house into an oncoming storm, changing everyone's life. She sat silently listening as her father filled in some of the missing details.

"Moira lost control around a curve about ten miles before town. She crashed through a guardrail, sending the car tumbling down the embankment. No one came upon the accident until the storm quieted."

"The emergency vehicles arrived to find Moira fading in and out of consciousness with severe internal injuries." Sam's bushy eyebrows pulled together, his brow furrowing. "The report listed one child unconscious, bruised and covered with superficial cuts to the face and arms…and one child dead on the scene.

_Red, too much red._

Lois didn't have to ask how her cousin died. She could almost smell the sickeningly sweet coppery scent of pooling blood. While she escaped with shallow nicks from the flying glass, a deep gash on Lois's neck severed a main artery and her life force pumped out unchecked.

"The paramedic's reported Moira regained consciousness long enough to identify the girls. I don't know how she got them mixed up."

Lois spoke up. "It was the rabbit."

"What?"

"That's why the hospital thought I had died. Lois was holding my yellow bunny. Moira must have identified her as me because of the rabbit." She lifted her eyes until they bore into her parents. "I understand that it was a mistake at first, but why didn't you set things straight. I may have kept her name alive, but you let her disappear, erased my best friend, your daughter."

Ellen shook her head in denial, nervously threading a tissue between her fingers. "The time at the hospital is a blur. Moira died during surgery. We had the funerals, the bodies were cremated, and we brought you home before we ever suspected anything. Lucy, who had been staying with a family from your father's work, came home." She fell silent for a moment, lost in the past. She bowed her head as a tear rolled down her cheek.

"Lucy recognized you right away, ran to you calling out Chloe, but she was only two. I was your mother, I should have known." She shook her head repeatedly, either in pain or denial. "I thought she was confused, hurt and wishing for something impossible. How could I explain that Chloe wasn't coming back?"

"Then you started talking again." She clutched Sam's hand. "For days not a peep and then Chloe's voice from Lois's lips. It was like a ghost came to haunt us. I thought I finally lost my mind."

"What happened?"

"You took Lucy to the bedroom you and Lois were going to share and took down the pink rabbit off the shelf to let Lucy look, but not touch, 'Chloe'. From then on, you sometimes acted oddly about the rabbit. You'd pretend to lose it and want to search the Daily Planet offices or some such nonsense."

"It wasn't nonsense. The day of the accident, we were playing our game. Lois was a racecar driver living at Nascar. Chloe, I mean I, was a reporter," her mother jumped in waving her hand in dismissal.

"You were always a reporter."

Lois continued as if uninterrupted. "I was a reporter living at the Daily Planet." Her mother blanched. "I wasn't looking for a toy, I was looking for me."

Pale and shaken, Ellen clutched her husband's arm. "Oh, Sam, what did we do?" The crease in his forehead grew longer, deeper and his eyes darted ever which way without seeing anything. His mouth twitched and occasionally he mumbled incoherently. Finally, clarity returned to his eyes and he set his jaw firmly.

"We did what we had to do." He told his wife. "We saw no signs of awareness or that she perceived Chloe as anything other than a toy."

"You never tried to fix it?" Disbelief mixed with shock. "Even if I was confused you should have told me."

Her father shook his head doggedly. "You were too young. The specialists agreed, the confusion would have been too much, besides, your mother…we were afraid of losing you all over again."

"I wouldn't let Sam risk it. No matter what the legal papers say, I was your mother. For four days, I wept and mourned for my baby. Four days later, I mourned my other daughter. I wasn't going to risk losing both my girls. Even with Moira gone, custody was in question. If I lost you again I wouldn't have survived." Ellen confessed.

Sam kept explaining tiredly. "It wasn't hard to pass you off as Lois. We'd just moved. No one knew my daughters. Our relatives lived far away and we hadn't kept up with pictures. Life kept going."

"I thought I would tell you when you were older," her mother said, "but between our divorce and...and my drinking it only seemed cruel to take one more thing away from you. Anyway, the condition was deemed irreversible. It seemed pointless." She dabbed at her eyes with a tissue one last time before stiffing her spine.

"So that's everything," she said. "There's nothing more to add." Her lips pressed tightly together while her chin lifted as if waiting for a blow. "You know everything."

No, thought Lois, that wasn't really true. She'd never know all the reasoning and justification. She'd never know the extent she was responsible for the buried pain that stayed behind closed doors. She'd always known there were secrets kept in her house. Secrets that made her mother weep and her father work nights, weekends, and holidays. He immersed himself more and more in his research until one day, they realized he wasn't coming home.

Her parents had only begun speaking in a civil manner a few years back and reuniting as a couple in the last eighteen months. As a child, she'd wondered if their problems were somehow her fault. As an adult, she realized that was untrue, but now, she no longer knew.

After the divorce, life in the Lane household went on. Lois lived with her mother and sister, but took a page out of her father's book and buried herself first in her studies and then in her pursuit of journalism. As a journalist, it was her job to ferret out festering secrets and expose hidden wounds. She'd unearthed the buried truths and earned praise for the same relentless curiosity that as a child reaped punishment.

From the outside she appeared strong, successful, and sure of all aspects in her life. In reality, only as a reporter had she felt absolute confidence. She took comfort that as Chloe Sullivan or Lois Lane that never had wavered. Being a journalist defined who she was for most of her life.

Lois scrutinized her fingers laced with Clark's. She couldn't recall when he'd taken her hand again, pouring out his steady love and devotion through even such a small union. Journalism was still inexorably woven into her life, but now it wasn't the only thing to define it. In the last few years with Clark at her side, she'd learned who she was.

These revelations of her past were too large to process in one sitting, but her father looked like he'd given up and her mother sat braced for the worst. She couldn't leave them wondering if she could ever forgive them. Her parent's actions could be considered unforgivable. Her name and initial place in the world was a deception. Chloe Sullivan ceased to exist and Lois Lane became a different person.

Five years ago, before she found the love that was the foundation to her life, her hidden history might have brought her world collapsing down. To survive, to seperate the lies, she might have cut all ties to her parents, but she wasn't that person anymore either.

Lois--she'd always think of herself as Lois-- wasn't sure if she'd ever agree with what her parents did and right now she didn't even entirely understand, but they were hers and she refused to lose her future with them because of the past. Whatever happened, she knew who she was now. She took a deep breath and looked up from her study of her and Clark's hands.

"Mom, can I pour you some more coffee, mine's gone cold. We have a lot to talk about." Lois lifted the pot and waited to see if her mother accepted her olive branch for the future. She didn't have the words right now, but hopefully they'd understand.

Ellen's lower jaw trembled and she blinked rapidly. Her voice was husky when she answered, "Yes please, I'd like that." Lois poured and then turned to her father.

"Daddy, more coffee?"

Sam Lane's forehead visibly relaxed and he nodded briskly. "Thank you, pumpkin," he whispered.

Lois settled back on the couch. Clark wrapped his arm around her shoulders. He squeezed lightly, letting her know he understood her decision to forgive. She leaned deeper into his embrace and let the security of their love seep into her soul.

"So," Lois said to break the sudden silence, "I'm curious. Lucy, when she was little, she had a lisp, but it only came out when she tried to say my name. She was six before she would say it right." She smiled ruefully. "I was wrong wasn't I? Lucy wasn't lisping."

"No," her mother confirmed sounding exasperated. "Four years! It took four years for her to finally remember." Lois smiled at her mother's frustration. No more tears or self-doubt, for better of for worse, her mother was back to normal. Ellen sipped her coffee and mumbled under her breath, "What was that she used to call you?"

"Chlois, she called me Chlois." Lois laughed lightly and took another step toward the future. "Danish anyone?"

* * *

"Clark, I'm so sorry for keeping you waiting," Chloe apologized as she bustled around the desk wearing a trim black skirt and a bold red blouse. She continued to gather up her notes and extra research.

"All I was supposed to do was retrieve a shoebox out of Lois's drawer and the next thing I know, Mr. White has me agreeing to return and write a reactionary follow up piece to the one published in Sunday's edition. I don't know why I agreed to do it." Clark snorted softly and Chloe sheepishly rolled her eyes. "Ok, I do know why. How could I say no to Perry White and the Daily Planet?"

Clark smiled indulgently, "You can't and I'd be more shocked if you could."

She smiled and went to retrieve her pages off the printer, glancing over her shoulder as she went. Clark's eyes followed. He had a look on his face that she couldn't quite define, but then she had half-expected Clark to look different this morning. It was only fair; she felt different.

Early this morning their relationship took a major change in direction. In his arms, her whole life had disassembled and been put back together again. Any experience like that should leave some kind of mark.

They hadn't had a chance to talk or do anything that didn't involve talking since Lois knocked over the vase. Chloe ran to run Lois's errands before Clark came back from his hero substitution duties and then she turned right around and returned to the Planet. Clark agreed to go with Martha and Jonathan for breakfast and then meet her at the paper.

The minute Clark walked out of the elevator Chloe wanted to drop everything, throw her arms around his neck, and give him the hero's welcome, but deadlines trumped desire especially in a work environment. That kind of behavior really wasn't professional, though honestly, had she not been on the phone in the middle of verifying a quote, she would have let propriety take a giant leap.

Instead of an epic reunion, they fell into their usual routine. Chloe gestured to him to come on in and Clark found an empty desk. Part of Chloe was relieved not to have lost the ease of their friendship, but part of her wondered if Clark shouldn't be more impatient.

"It shouldn't be too much longer."

"I'm fine."

"But it's bad enough that I deserted you and the Kents. I know you must bored by now. I promise it will just be a few more minutes."

"Uh huh."

Chloe bit her lip. Clark had that slightly odd look in his eyes again and she swore he wasn't completely paying attention to what she was saying. She shrugged aside her concerns and put together the file for Perry. She slipped everything into a folder.

"Let me drop this in Mr. White's office and we can go."

"Ok, I'll be here." He absently replied.

Chloe took two steps toward the Chief's office before curiosity got the best of her. Swiveling around, she slapped the folder down on the desk and stuck her hands on her hips. Demanding an answer she asked, "What is going on!?"

Clark smiled softly and shook his head. "Nothing."

She narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips together. "Nothing? I don't think so. Every time I look up, you're staring at me with this weird look in your eyes."

He grinned broadly, softly laughing aloud. "Weird look huh?" Chloe caught her breath and worked to hide the shiver triggered by his open smile and the rumble of his laughter. She struggled to reboard her train of thought.

"Um, well, uh, definitely a different kind of look. What gives?"

Clark shrugged. "Nothing new." She arched a brow, her skepticism showing. "No, really. It's just you kind of caught me this time."

He piqued her curiosity. "What exactly did I catch you doing?"

He smiled shyly. "Like I said, nothing really new. I just like watching you while you work."

Pink tinged her cheeks. "Please," she scoffed sarcastically.

Clark got to his feet and moved closer, settling in front of her on the edge of the desk. "No, it's true. Watching you while you work is…is…addictive. Your grace and confidence shows in every move, even in simple things like answering the phones or pulling files. Then when you're on deadline or on the trail of a hot lead you have this amazing energy that bubbles over into everything."

Chloe felt the color deepen in her cheeks, but she couldn't bring herself to look away from Clark's clear green eyes. He angled his body closer. "When you're doing research, you kind of set your shoulders back," he sat up straighter to demonstrate, "and attack the keyboard. Then, as the pieces start to fit, there is this moment of pure satisfaction that makes your eyes go wide." He reached for her hand and ran his thumb over the sensitive skin near her wrist. He whispered, "It blows me away."

Chloe swallowed hard and wet her lips. "So, you are telling me I shouldn't worry about you getting bored?" She asked in a husky voice. His devastating smile returned and did interesting things to her insides.

She leaned closer and he slid a hand around her waist like it was the most natural thing to do. Her free hand gripped his shirtfront.

"Bored?" He whispered against her lips. "Impossible."

_Author's note: Sigh, I love love. Hope the long- Lois was Chloe- explanation wasn't too dull. Thoughts? Questions? Complaints? The focus of the story will now go back to the main players. They still have to iron out a few pesky details before we can determine if going home is a possibility. I'll try to keep the next chapters shorter so they can be posted much more quickly. Remember, feedback is love and love makes the world go round (or at least helps post new chapters!) _


	38. Fariy Tale

_Author's note: It's not nearly as long as recent chapters, but I'm happy to be posting it. _

Chloe was floating on a cloud. Could there be a more delicious combination than Clark kisses at the Daily Planet? Bonus points for no looming end of the world scenario.

He was here holding her close and making her head spin because here is where he wanted to be.

Last night Clark told her she was the one he wanted. He said the words and she'd seen the truth in his eyes and felt it in his kiss. She let go of her fears and grabbed a hold of her dreams. Well, she let go of her fears for a while at least.

As the day wore on, doubts, inevitable for any self-reliant cynic, invaded her mind, nibbling at her happiness and planting uncertainties, but life itself was one big uncertainty and when Clark arrived at the Planet, the joy just his presence generated left no space for doubts to fester . She buried any that lingered deep in the back of her mind. None of that mattered right now.

Clark liked watching her work.

The knowledge filled her with a warm feeling and the soft press of his lips turned up the heat. No praise or compliment could mean more. He was her best friend, the man her stubborn heart refused to give up, and he truly understood her other great passion.

Chloe thrilled at being the center of his attention, but delighted even more so to discover Clark still recognized the energy flowing through a newsroom. Back during their time at the Torch, she'd seen in Clark a familiar hunger to follow trails and find answers. Not everyone was in the business for the same reasons. Some sought fame or glory. Some hungered for recognition. Others just saw the bottom line and only revenue filled them with glee.

Then there were the newshounds. The old fashioned, dyed in the wool, bleeding ink types. To them - to her - being a reporter was a calling. In the pages of a newspaper, fame was fleeting, glory scarce, recognition nil and the bottom fell out of print media a long time ago. Nevertheless, the daily newspaper was still the best access point to the truth. In between the flimsy pages, bare words stripped of musical cues and artificial smiles told their tale. The newspaper reporter relied on the strength of their truth to make their case for the day and then turned around tomorrow and started all over again.

Clark had excelled as a seeker of truth, one willing to explore all possibilities and possessed of an intuitive understanding of the big picture. Sure, he had a tendency to bury the lead and yet, his articles, even on humdrum subjects such as new gym mats or lunch listings, possessed a certain flavor and charm exclusive to Clark Kent.

Together they'd made a dynamite team. That hadn't changed, but now they only put their heads together when disaster threatened. She missed working with him day to day on more mundane matters. Knowing his journalistic spark still burned at some level made Chloe more determined not to let his talent go unstoked.

"You know it goes both ways," Chloe informed him breathlessly between kisses. "I like watching you while you work too."

Clark paused and smirked, "Really? So I should expect you with pompoms next time I'm mucking out the stalls." Chloe rolled her eyes.

"Um, sorry. I forgot to sign up for the 4-H fan club."

An exaggerated look of hurt crossed his features. "What? Not referring to my day job?" He puffed up with mock pride. "Conveniently for you, I moonlight at something more action oriented."

Chloe slipped her fingers between the buttons of his blue dress shirt to touch the black suit he wore underneath. She smiled flirtatiously and lightly stroked the material. "While I'm certain you are a sight I'd love to behold, I wasn't referring to that kind of super work either."

Clark enjoying her boldness, played at misunderstanding. "So being an alien with fantastic abilities is passé now?" He sighed dramatically. "I was afraid you were getting bored with the super speed. When I show up, you don't even flinch anymore."

Chloe yawned and patted a hand against her mouth. "What can I say? I've seen the show too many times." Clark made a tisking sound.

"That is too bad, but you haven't seen my finished act. You know I'm working on the flying. It out to be worth something."

Chloe couldn't help laughing. "Ok, you'll get points for the flying."

Clark tapped his chin, as if deep in thought. "And the super strength, you liked the car as a beach ball thing, right?" He asked in a boyishly eager way. Chloe smiled and brushed back a lock of dark hair that fell over his forehead.

"Yes, points for the super strength too, but speed?" She scoffed, going along with his silly game. "Once you're in a relationship, let me tell you, bragging about being super speedy doesn't come off in your favor."

"I can be slow."

"Oh, I know that," she snickered. "What have we managed? One date in the last seven or eight years?" Clark's lighthearted demeanor disappeared. He bowed his head and gripped her upper arms.

"I'll make it up to you," he vowed, his voice turning husky. "We can go anywhere you want, New York, LA, the Caribbean, South America..."

"Clark, no, I was teasing."

"That doesn't make it less true."

"Look, your not obligated…"

Clark's head popped up. "Obligated? Chloe, there isn't anyone I want to spend my time with more than you." Her heart ached at his sincerity. Chloe caressed the side of his face and ran her fingers back through his hair, a little giddy at the freedom to do so.

"There isn't anyone I'd rather be with than you either and that's just it. Being with you is enough. I don't need you to promise to take me to fancy places." She shrugged. "Pizza and a movie, coffee at the Talon, the occasional picnic – I'm happy with simple." She rattled off a few examples and Clark's smile returned. He let out a low chuckle. Chloe tilted her head back. "What's so funny?"

"I was wrong," he said simply. Chloe shot him a quizzical glance.

"About what?"

"Our dating record." Chloe raised her eyebrows, waiting for him to expand his thought. He shrugged. "Picnics, coffee dates, dinner and a movie…I guess I wasn't paying attention." A devilish glint sparkled in his eyes. "We've already been dating for a couple years." Chloe immediately swatted him on the arm.

"Let me in on the secret a little earlier next time," she ordered, peeved enough to push away.

Clark stepped forward, eliminating any distance between them and pulled her back into the circle of his arms. "I promise," he said as again he lowered his head to her lips. "You'll be the first to know."

A fleeting sense of déjà vu ran through Chloe's mind. "This is becoming habitual," she muttered, but before she could float off to cloud nine, Mr. White's gruff interruption replanted her feet on terra firma.

"Don't let me intrude on any important business, but seeing as I have a newspaper to run, I was wondering if you had something for me?"

"Oh, the article!" She pushed Clark away and twisted around to reach the folder lying on Lois's desk. Surreptitiously smoothing her hair and frantically trying to ignore the beet red blush she felt staining her skin, she handed her assignment over to Mr. White. "It's all done. I'm so sorry, I was on my way to give it to you when I got…distracted."

"Uh huh, distracted." Mr. White peered at her over his reading glasses. "I get that often enough from the reporters who normally use these desks. Lucky for them, the quality of their work makes up for any distractions" He thumbed open the folder and started reading the contents. He clicked his pen and made a few rapid notations before looking up. "Lucky for you too." Chloe sagged in relief.

"Thank you Mr. White. I really appreciate the opportunities to contribute."

"No, no thanks aren't needed. Just tell me you've thought more about my offer. You could have a great future at the Planet; I can make it happen." Chloe chewed on her lower lip. At her hesitation, he turned to the source of her 'distraction'. "We've got a place for you too." Mr. White clapped 'Kal' companionably on the back.

"Kal here dug up buckets of dirt on Intergang with Kent and that sidebar he put together outlining the timeline of their activities was concise yet compelling. What's Chicago got that we don't?" He asked, referring to the town listed on their fake ids. Perry clasped his hands together. "How about it? I could use a pair of fresh up and comers. Shake off Shy Town and make Metropolis your home port."

Clark at the Dailey Planet! Chloe's mind started racing at the thought; another dream laid at her feet. She was feeling overwhelmed. Between Clark's sudden romantic turn around, Perry White taking a personal interest in her career, and now a chance to add Clark to her D.P. dream, Chloe wondered if all inter-universal travelers were granted three wishes.

Chloe glanced over at Clark. He looked more than a little taken aback by Perry's offer. "Mr. White, like I said before, I really appreciate the offer, but unless our plans change drastically, we're heading back home pretty soon." Mr. White held up his hand.

"Plans are made to be changed." Chloe started shaking her head but he stopped her from disagreeing aloud. "Now, now, don't tell me no. Just keep thinking about it." He backed away from them. "I've got a feeling about you two. I had the same feeling when I partnered Lane and Kent. This is the Daily Planet; you don't want to pass on this chance. Keep thinking about it. Jimmy!" He turned and hollered. "Take this up to production." He handed the folder off to Olsen and slipped back into his office.

Clark was staring at her again, but the weight of his gaze felt heavy this time. Worry pinched his forehead and Chloe dropped her head. She felt guilty about their predicament and for momentarily fantasizing over Perry's offer. She traveled to this alternate universe with only one goal in mind.

To bring Clark home.

She never expected to see all her dreams set before her, everything she wanted at arms reach.

Three wishes.

That kind of thinking belonged in a fairy tale and she was no Cinderella. At best, she was caught up in a sci-fi melodrama. When they went home - and going home was the only option she would consider – she would leave behind the fast track to life under the Tiffany lamps and that was ok. She wasn't looking for a fairy godmother, but she wished she could drowned out that nagging little voice wondering if the fast track would be the only dream she left behind.

There was a saying familiar to most and especially to self-reliant cynics. If it seems too good to be true, it probably is.

"Come on, let's go," she said suddenly switching gears. She tossed an empty styrofoam cup into the garbage and hefted her bag on to her shoulder. "We can be at Star Labs by eleven." Chloe swept past the desks and cubicles, heading for the elevator. She didn't want to dwell on doubts anymore. It was time for action.

Her main goal hadn't changed. They still needed to get home. After that, well…then she'd take time to figure out if she was going to get to keep the glass slippers.

While they waited for the elevator, Chloe analyzed Clark. She wasn't quite sure what he was thinking. Tension still left furrows on his forehead and brackets around his frown. She decided he must be worried about what they would find out from Victor and Milt's Star Lab counterparts. They were at their mercies. She and Clark were only going home if the grumpy geniuses put the Resonator Recorder watch back together.

The elevator arrived and they entered with a crowd. She made certain someone pressed the lobby button before looking at Clark again. His silence was killing her. She knew him well enough to know the kind of mental torture he was probably inflicting on himself. As always, an overpowering desire to ease his mind and undo his frown bubbled within, but she couldn't make promises about their future.

Instead, she reached out for his hand. Clark gave her a feeble smile but met her half way, wrapping her hand in warmth. His grip remained gentle, yet she felt his strength. He held her hand lightly, but enfolded it completely as if he never planned on letting go.

Peace she wasn't looking for found her and where she intended to give comfort, she received it. She studied Clark again. His brow was no longer stormy and his smile no longer strained. It seemed that comfort was given as well.

Chloe smiled. Her life may not be a fairy tale, but she would fight anything that threatened her happy ending.

_Author's note: Another World has passed the three hundred review mark! Thank you one and all for your thoughts and support. There is no way this story would have kept going without them. Always feel free to say as much or as little as you want in your reviews. I eat them up no matter what. _


	39. To Have a Choice

_Author's note: Oh boy oh boy was this a doozy of a break between chapers. Talk about writer's block. I promise I'll not give up on this story and I don't think I could stand myself if I ever let that much time ever come between updates. Thank you all, new and old readers, for sticking by this story._

Clark sat on the couch alone in the Kent's living room, giving Chloe and Lois a chance to talk privately in the kitchen. He leaned forward, fiddling with the watch wrapped around his wrist. The black band was wide and the face thick and oversized like a sports watch, but it wasn't an ordinary timepiece.

He used his thumb to release a catch and pop open the cover. He stared at the rapidly changing numerals, mesmerized by the sinuous pattern repeated in the long string of numbers. He didn't fully understand the technology, but knew his only shot of going home relied on a working model and so when back at Star Labs Dr. Milton Hamlish said the Resonance Recorder watch was beyond repair, his mind refused to process the information normally and instead slipped into super speed mode.

Time seemingly stopped. Milton's dire words shredded the last of Clark's control and he could no longer hold back the mass of conflicting thoughts and notions that battled for dominance. His racing thoughts overwhelmed his mind as they had been threatening to do since he and Chloe left the Daily Planet for the lab.

The cab ride over was mostly a blur. He remembered holding Chloe's hand, not certain if she was his only link to reality or if he was just afraid she'd disappear. Neither of them did much talking and once Dr. Hamlish and Davinhoe joined them, he had trouble even concentrating on what they were saying. That wasn't too surprising, very little of the technical jargon meant anything to him, at least not as anything he could comprehend.

What he could comprehend and could not get out of his mind was the opportunity Perry offered back at the Planet. He wasn't just offering them a job, but a clear path to the future. Chloe refused of course, but Clark would have had to be blind to miss the longing that flashed in her eyes. Mr. White was ready to step in and guide her career, giving Chloe the attention her talents deserved.

Here in this world, THE Perry White - one of her idols - was ready to become her mentor. Here in this world, Clark knew where he could find an ideal mentor of his own.

Given his past dealings with the artificial intelligence representing Jor-el and its twisted vision of tough love, he had infinite more confidence in any training he would receive at Superman's hand then from the warped relic inhabiting the fortress.

Still, home called to him. Chloe came to bring him home. Her ultimate success at the Daily Planet might take a little longer, but Clark knew she would keep pressing onward until she made it to the top. When he returned he would…

He wasn't clear what he would do back home.

His confusion had nothing to do with Chloe. He needed her, had for longer than she knew. Chloe was a part of any future he could envision and lately he foresaw a future involving a fluttering red cape (black really wasn't his color), but he wasn't sure how he got there.

Was he ready? Did he need the training Jor-el demanded? Did he have the strength to refuse? If not, would he return the same person or be brainwashed back into Kal-el? Could Kal-el, a creature purely Kryptonian and bound by unwavering order and cold logic, ever become Superman?

Clark didn't think so.

Since arriving in this world, his goal had been clear and simple: get back to Chloe and get back home. Funny how long it took him to realize one was tied up with the other. He now had Chloe at his side and together they were striving to get home, but with Perry's job offer, Clark realized staying here was a legitimate choice to consider.

A parallel universe might be the only place Jor-el couldn't control. If they stayed, they could be happy. Maybe happier than if they returned home. Was this his destiny?

The instant Perry said there was a place for both of them at the Planet something resonated deep inside Clark. Familiarity, stronger than déjà vu, washed over his senses. They could belong in this world.

Already this universe was shifting to make room, anticipating their wants and needs as if their story had previously been written. The notion was both discomforting and alluring and when he and Chloe arrived at Star Labs, his mind wouldn't stay focused on the scientist's report about the repair of the RR watch, the device that could send him home.

He did register that Dr. Hamlish and Davinhoe were in fine form, spewing facts and figures, pulling schematics and graphs and even running a few computer simulations. About thirty minutes into their presentation, Chloe finally had enough.

Her palm slapped down on top of the growing pile of printouts, preventing Hamlish from pulling out and referencing yet another chart. He tugged at it and glared her way. She glared back before sighing, "Look, I get it. You two are geniuses and repairing the resonator recorder takes geniuses. Bottom-line it. Yes or no, can you do it? Can you fix it?"

"Bottom line it she says," Dr Milton Hamlish muttered, finally yanking the pile of documents out from under her hand. "You want a yes or no answer. Fine. The answer is no. There is no possible way to repair the resonance recorder."

No repair. No way home. No hope.

No wonder the shock tripped his senses into a time stream where he could more leisurely process the news. Clark blinked and looked around, still caught up in a daze and still viewing the world at an alternate speed.

The RR watch was unfixable. The path he had only just acknowledged as a choice was now their only option.

Was this his fault? Could a half-formed wish shape the course of the universe? Were they now trapped without a way home because he was afraid of the unknown? He glanced down a Chloe.

She was a wax museum parody. Except for two tiny spots of red dotting her cheeks, all the color drained from her face. Her eyes were huge and her mouth formed a perfect "oh" of shock and horror. Her head tilted back and her whole body listed to the side as if a physical blow had landed instead of just words.

A flare of anger churned in his gut and burned away some of Clark's paralyzing confusion. He wrapped his arm around Chloe's waist, pulling her back against his chest and eliminating even the scant inches separating their bodies. The world returned to regular speed.

Chloe leaned into his warmth, steadying herself. She placed her arm over his and tightly clasped his hand. Milton made a snorting sound. Something like satisfaction lit up his eyes and something like smugness, tugged at his lips.

Clark frowned, something wasn't adding up. Hamlish's expression was not in keeping with a confession of failure. Before Clark could question him, Dr. Victor Davinhoe burst in frantically.

"Milton! You can't say something like that." Davinhoe turned to them nervously wringing his hands and shaking his head.

"They wanted to know if we could fix the RR watch and you know as well as I that we can't," Milton concluded triumphantly. Davinhoe dropped his gaze to the floor.

Clark felt Chloe's fingernails dig into his skin and glanced down to see her hands clenched tight enough to whiten her knuckles. Her color returned, heating her cheeks and with them, her temper. Milton wasn't being completely honest with them and was doing a lousy job of hiding that fact.

Clark spared a moment of pity on the foolish doctor as Chloe straightened and began stalking toward Milton. Her eyes narrowed like a predator spotting its prey and suddenly she was on top of the food chain again.

"Milton Hamlish," she spit his name out like it was a filthy word. "You are the same arrogant SOB where I come from but at least in that universe you weren't incompetent and petty."

"Incompetent!" Milt sputtered and fell back a pace as Chloe neared. His head jerked around to follow her as she began circling. Clark recognized the technique and even Lionel Luthor would have been impressed.

"Well," she pointed out almost casually, "your junior counterparts, not even out of grad school mind you, developed and built not only the retrieval devices, but also the entire AU-ray. Actually, rebuilt it three times and counting in the last week. All the while you," Chloe huffed in disgust, "revel over your failure to fix a mere little watch."

"Little watch! This little watch is beyond anything your imitators have devised. Their simplistic tagging devices can only stabilize and amplify an individual's resonance signal and only as long as they are worn. Our Resonance Recorder can be programmed to absorb any frequency and never degrade.

"Yes," she paused and smiled sweetly, "but the simplistic tagging devices still work unlike you temperamental equipment. Now you say you can't even repair it? Was a working RR watch just a fluke? What kind of scientific hacks are you if you can't even duplicate you own results?"

A mottled shade of red spread over his face. "It was no fluke. It was a result of methodical research and experimentation."

Chloe rolled her eyes. "Well you must have kept terrible notes if you can't reproduce it."

Milton started sputtering, but Clark stepped in and redirected the conversation to the other scientist. "Dr. Davinhoe, you're shaking your head, do you disagree with Dr. Hamlish's assessment of the device? Can it be fixed?"

Victor froze and then tugged at his tie, loosening it at the collar. "No, not really," he mumbled while his eyes darted between his colleague and a cabinet along the back wall.

Clark squinted to take a quick peek inside and saw a familiar shape sitting on the shelf. He glanced down when he felt a light touch on his forearm. He nodded almost imperceptibly, indicating he saw something. Chloe refocused her attacks. "It can't be fixed," she began while folding her arms together, "but, there is something that your not telling us, isn't there."

Victor wiped at the sweat forming on his forehead and turned to Milton. "We can't just…"

"Shut up Victor," Dr. Hamlish said succinctly.

"No, no, no." Chloe shook her head smiling and showing some of her fangs. "That's not how this works. What are you holding out on us?"

Clark answered in their stead. "The replacement model." Chloe lifted an eyebrow and he explained. "After Lois disappeared with the original RR watch, they began building a new one." Victor's nervous gulp and the sudden stubborn set to Milton's mouth was all the confirmation Clark needed. "You finished the replacement, didn't you?"

Victor's eye fixed on the cabinet once again. Chloe took a step in that direction, but Milton darted in front, blocking her path. Clark tensed, ready to spring into action. Dr. Hamlish, though, only stood in her way without making any threatening moves.

Chloe stuck her hands on her hips and rocked back on her heels, clucking like a schoolteacher over a rebellious student. "Really?" She asked. "Not planning on sharing?"

"Why should we?" Milton didn't stomp his foot, but he did look so inclined. "Why should we give you the culmination of all out research, just to watch it vanish again?"

Chloe ignored his histrionics and instead spoke to him slowly and calmly. "You are going to give us the RR watch and I'll tell you why. We," she said pointing at herself and Clark, "are the culmination of all your research, not some object. Our presence shuts up the decades of doubting voices screaming in you heads, doesn't it?"

Victor nodded as if in a trance. Milton just scowled, but Chloe ignored his fierce attitude and came closer. "We took your theories and speculation and made them fact. _We_ are your dream come true." She laid a gentle hand on his forearm. "Give us the working RR watch and see your dream through to the end."

Milton's defiant stance deflated in front of them. He let his head hang and gestured to his partner. "Victor, open the cabinet. Give them what they want," he sighed, sounding defeated. Chloe squeezed his arm.

With a nervous glance over his shoulder, Victor did as instructed and hurried over to open the metal cabinet door. He pulled out a perfect replica of the RR watch and shuffled back to Milton's side, placing it in the scientist's outstretched hand.

Milton stared at the compact device for a long moment, long enough for Clark to wonder if he'd changed his mind about handing it over.

"Dr. Hamlish?" Chloe prompted and held out her hand.

Dr. Milton Hamlish nodded succinctly and a hint of his swagger returned, "I suppose you want me to program it for you too."

A smile played around Chloe's lips, "Yes please."

He punched a few buttons, popped the top and angled the device at Chloe to allow for a scan. A burst of blue-white light flashed and Milton immediately became engrossed with the results popping up on the face of the watch.

"Beautiful," he mumbled in awe, "I must download a copy of this." Victor keyed up a program on the laptop sitting on the nearest counter and the two collaborators huddled close together so they both could monitor the transference of data. What they saw clearly had them transfixed.

Clark slid his eyes over to Chloe and found her watching him with an unreadable expression. Chloe normally had the most expressive face. He loved watching emotions play across her features but he couldn't identify the one currently settled on her brow. She dropped her gaze to the floor, breaking eye contact. That he didn't know what she was thinking worried him.

A heartbeat later, Hamlish and Davinhoe straightened from the computer and pronounced the degradation of Chloe's frequency signal insignificant.

"Which means?" Clark asked trying to be sure he understood what they were saying.

"Which means we now have the address to another world and provided your contacts in that world take care of business, you get to go home." Milton handed the RR watch over to Clark without taking his eyes off a new formula Victor was extrapolating. "It's calibrated and active," he said tersely, waving his hand to dismiss them.

Victor bothered to at least look up from the monitor and wish them, "Good luck," before also tuning out their presence.

Home.

This was it. They'd done all they could and were now waiting on Hamlish and Davinhoe's counterparts to find the signals and bring them back home and to its myriad of unknown factors.

With the rays of the mid afternoon sunlight warming his back, Clark sat on the couch in the Kent's living room reliving the encounter. Before leaving Star Labs, Chloe strapped the Resonance Recorder watch onto Clark's wrist and then solemnly engaged her personal tagging devices. All the while, he still couldn't tell what she was thinking.

If she were pleased, wouldn't he know? However, wouldn't she tell him if she was not? Was he being selfish, pushing to go home to an uncertain future? Their lives here were ready to start.

He still hadn't talked to Chloe about his concerns. He wasn't even sure how to bring them up or what entirely he even wanted. These were the moment when he acutely missed his father. Never had Clark come to him with a problem he wasn't willing to tackle. When Clark was young, he was sure his father had all the answers. Later, he valued him even more for not giving up even when he didn't.

Since his death, whenever life left him confused or hurting he had turned to Chloe, but this time he felt he couldn't put that burden on her. They needed to talk, but before they did, he needed to know his own mind.

His own mind.

He looked around the Kent's living room and it occurred to him he had a chance to very nearly do just that.

Clark took a second to listen in on the chatter in the kitchen, making sure all was well and then sped out the front door to find Kent. While what he overheard left him very curious, he was less interested Lois Lane's past than he was in his and Chloe's future…no matter what universe.


	40. Decisions

_**Author's note:** _

_Hello all. Nope, I didn't forget Another World, even though the six months since I last posted might suggest othewise. Sadly, I lost my father back in August. That didn't stop me from working on my story, in fact it was actually a big comfort, something to busy my mind. Strangely though, I couldn't seem to finish it. I just kept proofing it and reproofing it. Making changes and undoing changes and still, I just couldn't get it to the final stage were I could let it go. I kept thinking, no, the chapter is not ready, it's not good enough, there is still so much to do. Eventually I had to just set it aside and leave it untouched. _

_Two nights ago, just as I was about to get in bed, I suddenly, overwhelmingly missed this story. I called it up on my computer and worked on it until two, making the few remaining needed corrections, ones I had outlined to do months ago. I realized then that the chapter wasn't what I was hung up on, but the time it represented to me. I can't say it's perfect, but it is time to put it out there and move on to the next chapter. I thank you, dear readers, for continuing to take this journey with me. _

Chloe sat at the breakfast nook stirring her coffee and waiting for Lois to stop pacing like a big cat in a small cage. Even though Lois insisted she wanted to explain this morning's drama, she hadn't so far managed to spit it out. Her nervousness was making Chloe too jittery to enjoy her mid-afternoon caffeine fix.

"Lois, if whatever it is that's bothering you is too hard to tell me, you know you don't have to, but really, I fully understand all the nuances that come in visiting an alternative reality. At this point nothing you could tell me will come as a shock."

Lois stopped pacing. "Ok, I'll just say it." She took a deep steadying breath and let it all rush out. "My birth name wasn't Lois Lane. It's Chloe Sullivan. My cousin died in a car accident, I," she pointed a finger at her head and made a twirling motion, "went woohoo and assumed her identity. Surprise!"

Chloe blinked rapidly, opening and closing her mouth twice before managing to form words. "Ok, except for that. That…that did come as a shock. Wow, just wow." Lois quickly filled her in on the details before sliding wearily into the booth. Chloe poured coffee from a carafe keeping it hot and pushed the mug into Lois's hands. "Are you ok? This must be messing with your mind."

Lois took a grateful sip and sighed in pleasure. "A little. Ok, more than a little, but I'm at a good place in my life. It'll take more than an interesting back-story to make me question who I am now."

Ever the reporter, Chloe gave in to her curiosity. "So, do you remember everything now? I mean from when you, well, were Chloe?" Lois shook her head.

"I only remember the day of the accident." She paused to take another sip of coffee. "I guess that's not entirely true. I remember remembering certain things on that day too, like the feeling I had toward my cousin. I adored her. Our history stretched back to our very beginning." She tilted her head and smiled. "I never forgot her in some ways."

"She became a part of who you are."

"That's truer than you know. Apparently," Lois explained while tracing the edge of the coffee mug with a fingertip, "my early childhood memories are all combined with Lois's."

"Ok," Chloe frowned, trying to work that one out. "You…you have her memories too?" She bit her lip and shrugged helplessly. "I guess that's not any weirder than traveling to an alternate universe."

Lois snorted. "Um, yes it is and no, I don't have her memories. I mean I didn't get her thoughts, but her stories became mine. Like how I first attempted to ride my bike minus the training wheels. I crashed into the garbage cans, bent the handle bars and needed fourteen stitches on my left elbow." Lois bent her arm and held it in front of Chloe.

"I don't see a scar."

"Exactly." Lois leaned back triumphantly. "Turns out, not my memory. I was there, but it was Lois on the Evil Knievel kick. My parents said most of my early memories are a mix of both Chloe and Lois moments. They are so accustomed to the mash up, they for the most part couldn't tell me which were my original memories." A trace of bitterness clouded her eyes.

Chloe leaned forward to touch Lois's hand. "Whether they happened to you or not, they are now your memories." She told her sympathetically. "And I don't think your cousin would begrudge you them. I know mine wouldn't."

"But how would she feel about everything else? Wouldn't she be upset?"

Chloe thought for a moment. "No, I don't think so."

Lois drew back, shaking her head. "I stole her name and took over her life."

"No," Chloe gently reasoned, "you stepped in and kept her alive the only way in your power. You gave meaning to her name. Lois Lane got to grow up, fall in love, become a star reported at the Daily Planet and I bet she'll find a place in the history books too. I can't help thinking how proud she would be to share her name, to know how much she meant to you."

Lois dabbed at her eyes. "Ugh, I thought I was through with crying. Enough about me; tell me about that lip lock I interrupted this morning. Are you two officially…"Chloe cut her of, cringing.

"Can we go back to talking about painful childhood deceptions?"

******

* * *

Clark sped out of the Kent's front door not knowing his specific destination. Superman was out there somewhere. He paused and "listened" to the city, letting the wash of humanity crash over his senses, a practice he'd been refining with Kent's help.

He didn't pick up any hot spots. The newspaper carrier getting berated for tossing the afternoon edition on an elderly women's pansies didn't count.

Metropolis was calm. That left only the rest of the planet to check but Clark's hearing couldn't circle the globe. If he wanted to know if something requiring Superman was happening in the world, he'd have to find out the old fashion way—check the news.

He zipped over to the Planet, slowing down to blend with the foot traffic and entered at a normal pace. The guard on day shift was a former beat cop forced to retire when a bullet didn't quite bounce off his kneecap. Accustomed to being in the know, he always kept on in the background a police scanner and a radio set to the news channel. A real news junkie, he loved to sprinkle his greetings with headlines and breaking stories.

Earlier in the week when Kent, when he introduced "Cal" to the security man, he insisted Frank was better than the evening edition and more up to date than the AP wire.

"What's new in the world Frank?" Clark held up his ID badge for inspection before clipping it to his shirt.

"The Metropolis Sharks added a game to their winning streak, the President vetoed the new spending bill as expected, and," the retired cop leaned forward conspiratorially, "Sergeant Reynolds of the 2nd precinct locked his keys in his patrol car right after Superman caught a pair of jewel thieves doing a smash and grab down at the Diamond Exchange. The best part?" The older man tried to act casual as he made a notation on the clipboard, but couldn't quite hide his glee.

"What was the best part?" Clark prompted on cue.

Frank grinned like a Cheshire cat and chortled. "The best part was when one of the jewel thieves broke in and unlocked it for Reynolds."

Clark chuckled appropriately and then zeroed in on what he really wanted to know, "Did this happen recently?"

"Yep. Kent walked in five minutes ago to file the scoop."

"Thanks Frank." Clark headed to the elevator. The doors opened, closed, and a moment later, deposited him in the bullpen. He spotted Kent on the other side of the room, clacking away full speed on his keyboard. Clark was hesitating on the steps, unsure if it was a good time to interrupt, when he felt a hand fall heavily on his shoulder.

"Cal, my boy." 's voice boomed in his ear. "Come by to accept my offer?"

"Umm, actually I needed to talk to Clark but he looks busy." The urge to duck out and avoid Perry's second pitch to stay at the Planet was strong. "Maybe I should come back later." Clark started backing away but Perry just grinned and tightened his grip.

"Ha, no need. Come with me. I was just about to pick up his pages anyway." Mr. White steered them over to the desks where half of the Lane and Kent duo was working…the same desks where only this morning Perry had interrupted he and Chloe in the middle of being very "distracted." A surge of excitement swept over Clark as he recalled the warmth of her body as it had swayed closer to his. If he enhanced his senses, he could still pick up the lingering scent of her skin, making it easy to recall the faint brush of her breath on his lips, her fingers gliding through his hair, the sweetness of her mouth.

Perry too must have been remembering this morning's encounter since he chose that moment to waggle his bushy eyebrows meaningfully. Clark stifled a groan. Public displays of affection weren't his normal style. Now most of his flushed state was due to embarrassment…most, but not all. Clark couldn't deny that the zing thrumming through his veins came just from the act of thinking about the heat he and Chloe generated and how quickly the fire smoldering between them could flare to life.

Maybe it was because they had been friends for so long. Maybe it was because he knew with bone deep certainty he could trust and rely on her. Maybe it was because he'd come too close to losing her. He wasn't sure of the reason, but when they were together, he was finding it unnervingly easy to slip from casual to intense in the space of a few heartbeats. This morning that transition translated into a very public display chocked full of all sorts of affection.

He felt out of control and yet, oddly unafraid. The feeling was unlike anything he'd ever known. Chloe was his constant, the one he relied on without question, though for too long he took that closeness for granted.

Back in high school, and more recently than he liked to admit, he sailed through more than one attempt at a relationship with Lana not even understanding what was lacking. The parts of himself he couldn't share with Lana, parts he knew she'd find uncomfortable or uninteresting, he saved for Chloe anyway.

Gradually he came to realize there wasn't much of himself that he was comfortable sharing with Lana. She didn't know him and he'd finally figured out that he didn't know her either. That wasn't the case with Chloe.

Chloe understood him, flaws and all. He understood Chloe too, well she was a woman so not everything, but he did understand how she felt about the Daily Planet which only made Perry's offer and the decision he must make all the more confusing. He needed to sort out his mind before he talked with Chloe, which was why he was seeking out his counterpart.

Kent clicked the save button as they walked up to his desk.

"Sorry to interrupt," Clark mumbled.

"No, I just finished." A printer worked in the background, spitting out his article. As soon as it stopped, he handed it to Perry.

"Thank you son. Now, ah, I'll leave you two boys to talk. Cal here has some questions. Make sure to bring up how much you love working at the Planet." Mr. White turned and left, laughing uproariously.

"What was that about?" Kent asked when Perry was out of earshot.

"Part of why I wanted to talk to you." Clark shifted on his feet uncomfortably and looked around the crowded bullpen. "Do think we could go somewhere a little less public?"

Kent pushed up his glasses and got to his feet. "This isn't about Lois is it? Did she send you?"

"No, no, nothing like that. She was talking with Chloe when I left."

Kent nodded and began shutting down his computer. "I take it you got filled in on what Lois found out?"

"I caught the jist. Wild…, but I can't say I'm too surprised. I figured there had to be some kind of explanation for how your Lois turned out." At Kent's puzzled look, Clark shook his head. "Trust me on this one."

"Ok, maybe I don't want to know."

They left the Planet and walked in silence a few blocks before slipping into a quiet alley. "You have a place in mind to talk?"

"Yeah."

"Lead the way."

They raced across half the country before stopping at that same secluded, mountain lake Clark visited after his first appearance as the Superfriend. Perpetually frigid and nearly inaccessible by anyone but mountain goats, they were about as far from prying eyes and ears as physically possible. No need for disguise, Kent slipped off his glasses and slid them into a pocket.

"So," he began as he bent down and picked up a flat stone, "when do you leave?" Before Clark could ask how he knew, Kent pointed to the bulky black thing on his wrist. "Looks like you have a new watch."

Clark twisted the Resonance Recorder back and forth. "Maybe late tonight, maybe sometime tomorrow." He shrugged. "Chloe was kind of vague on that."

Kent reached back and sent the stone in his hand skipping all the way across the lake. "But it's just a matter of time, huh?"

"That's kind of what I wanted to talk to you about."

Kent bent over and picked up another rock. "Are you thinking of staying? Look, before you say anything, you should know if something were to happen or if you just made something happen, both Lois and I would be glad to have you and Chloe around."

"Thank you."

Kent nodded briskly in return and launched the second stone over the water. "But this isn't about what Lois and I want. What do you want? Until now, your only goal has been getting home. What's different now?"

Clark answered succinctly. "Chloe."

****

* * *

Unable to look Lois in the eye, Chloe focused the coffee in her cup. Just the aroma should have been enough to bring a smile, but she was beyond help from even Brazil's best beans. The lip lock Lois mentioned had been the stuff of dreams and the interlude at the Planet right out of a fantasy, but since then there had been too much time to think, to doubt -- not that she had intended on sharing her psychosis. Chloe forced herself to make eye contact.

Lois looked crestfallen. "What happened? Everything seemed to be going along so well."

"Everything is going well, really well." Chloe insisted. Unintentionally a dreamy sigh escaped. "Spectacularly well."

Lois smirked. "Ok, call me an optimist, but isn't that a good thing?"

"Yes and that is what I'm worried about."

"You are losing me."

She tucked a strand of honey colored hair behind her ear, bit her lip and decided to confide her worries. "What if it is going too well?"

"Still lost."

Chloe tightly gripped her coffee mug. "He said that he loves me and the only thing he was afraid of was me not believing him and..."

"Wait. Do you believe him? I've seen the way he looks at you."

Chloe bit her lip again. "I…I, yes. I can't look in his eyes and believe anything else, but it's just….too…"

"What?"

"Perfect. Too perfect. That's not my life!"

Restless, she stood and dumped her untouched coffee in the sink before turning and bracing herself against the counter. "I've worked hard for everything I have: my friendship with Clark, getting people to take my investigations seriously, legitimate standing at the Planet." She shook her head. "I don't regret any of the struggles. I've grown and learned from my mistakes, something that would never happen if I'd been handed life on a silver platter."

"Chloe, not everything in life has to be hard. That said, might I quiz you on your definition of going perfectly?" The irony dripped from every word. "Do you recall the part where we were kidnapped? How about the time you were tossed off a roof and I was locked underground with the world's worst former superhero? Maybe you remember our first day back being capped off with the launch of a trio of deadly missiles?"

With a wave of her hand, Chloe dismissed the events as insignificant. "Which were handled neatly by a couple of Supermen and landed me a front page exclusive with the FBI." She waited half a beat and added pointedly, "And I didn't even work for the Planet at the time. That's just crazy."

Lois scrunched up her forehead. "I'll admit it's a bit unusual," she conceded. Chloe went on with her list of grievances.

"So much of what has been happening here doesn't feel real. I keep waiting for someone to expose me as a fraud. The computer guys down at the Planet think I'm some kind of savant on par with Bill Gates and Steve Jobs."

"Who?"

She pushed on, ignoring Lois. "Perry White – the Perry White – wants to help fast track my career. Clark Kent loves me and I barely had to threaten Milt and Victor before they handed over the new working RR watch."

Lois held up her hand. "Wait; if you have the watch and are still planning on going home, why are you so concerned about what is happening here?"

"Here, there, the other shoe has to drop sometime." Chloe wrapped her arms tightly around her middle. "I know when we go I leave behind all this world has handed me: Perry White, this Daily Planet, the worship of the guys in the computer room and that's fine, but …" She pressed her lips together and looked away, "I keep thinking, even though I don't want to think it, what if Clark's feelings for me stay behind along with the express ride to the Tiffany lamps?"

"Oh Chloe." Lois scooted out of the booth to give her a hug. "You don't really believe that?" She asked, pulling back to look her in the eye.

"I don't know what to believe," she snuffled.

"Then stay." Lois clapped her hands together. "Convince Clark to stay. Perry will love it. I'd love it. I know Clark, my Clark, would love it too."

****

* * *

Kent watched Clark pace along the rocky shore, giving the younger man time to pull his thoughts together, but while he watched, a thought that wouldn't go away popped in his head.

That's me.

Clark Kent.

Born on Krypton.

Sent to earth.

Raised by Martha and Jonathan Kent.

Their stories were the same, but told oh so different. He marveled all over at their similarities and once again, gave thanks for the differences. His dad's latest check up pronounced him fit and strong. Accidents could happen to anyone, but odds were in favor of him not having to face the same sorrow as Clark for a long, long time. Neither would his mother.

His mom, his Martha Kent, she was bold and creative, funny and patient, blunt and capable and possessing the full contingent of motherly super powers. Like the ability to always know when you're hurting, the power to knock sense through thick heads, and able to soothe worries in a single cup of coco.

Who would she be without his father?

Lois called Senator Martha Kent a faded light, someone who risked turning into a ghost if she couldn't fill her daily routine with enough purpose to propel her through the motions of living. Even the idea of his mother hollowing into a shell of her former self made his heart ache.

Yes, he was very fortunate.

This life, in this world, for all the brushes with clones and bouts of amnesia, remained remarkably kinder than the one his other self inhabited.

According to Clark, just finishing high school had been a battle, one that ended in Smallville's very own mini apocalypse, complete with fire raining down from the heavens. Life hadn't gotten any simpler since then.

Part of Kent wanted to save Clark from the trials still waiting for him back home, but didn't the extra high level of problems just mean Clark was needed that much more? But could one man alone, even a Superman, ever be enough?

Clark stopped his pacing and bent down to pluck up a stone and chuck it across the lake as Kent had been doing. His rock shattered against a granite slab on the other side with a sharp crack and broke Clark's silence as well. "Perry offered me a job. Chloe too of course." He shrugged, "Let's be honest, he wants Chloe on staff and is willing to take me."

"Ahh, that's why he wanted me to put in a good word." Kent continued to root through the choice of stones along the banks of the pond. He narrowed his eyes to search just beneath the topsoil and then plucked out a flat, symmetrical agate. "Are you thinking of accepting?" He asked nonchalantly, trying to draw the younger man out without adding any more pressure.

"It's everything Chloe has ever wanted. I don't know what will happen when we go back." He sighed. "After how big an idiot I've been, how can I ask her to give up this chance? Life here could be perfect. I'd have Chloe, friends, a world ready to accept my help, and no unstable AI coming after me. I hate the idea of leaving my mom alone, but if this was the only way I could be happy, she'd understand."

"You're worried about Jor-el and the training." It was a statement, not a question.

"I can't see how I can put him off much longer or if I even should. There's so much that I could learn, but I'm not sure I'd end his training the same person. I keep thinking there has to be some kind of compromise that Jor-el and I can come to, but the risk…" Clark shook his head helplessly.

"I wish," Kent began to say. He then paused, and started again. "Superman is supposed to have all the answers. Sometimes I wish that was true. Right now, I wish I could give you definite answers, but I didn't have a fortress."

"Just after I came to Metropolis though, I got a few messages from Jor-el. Fairly straight forward stuff: a message from my parents, some history surrounding how I came here and a bit about where I came from. Few years later, the group of refugees saved from Krypton's destruction contacted me. Since they were trying to rebuild Kryptonian society, I have a feeling that instead of sequestering a vast library of Kryptonian knowledge here on earth, it made its way to New Krypton. I can't say I regret that either."

"What do you mean?"

Kent rubbed his hands together briskly, using more effort than he really needed rid the fine layer of earth from his hands. "There's a certain mindset I saw among the Kryptonians that I'm glad I never learned."

His eyebrows drew together darkly. "Cold logic at the expense of everything. Tradition trumping the heart. I felt a kinship, an obligation at first, but in the end, I had to acknowledge that though I may have been born on Krypton, this is my home." Kent glanced around. Even an anonymous pond pooling at the base of remote mountains provided a familiar comfort. Shortly after finishing school, he had sought out similarly isolated spots.

He raised his hands and gestured all around. "This world is a part of me. I am who I am today because of this planet and because of the love and guidance of my parents, the ones who raised me, my true parents." He paused and made sure he had Clark's attention. "There was something else they gave, something that for me was almost as important. The gift of time."

"Time?"

Kent tried to explain. "A point came in my life where I needed to go and walk the world until I found out what I wanted out of life. I still didn't figure out all the pieces until I was actually living the life I sought. There was a time when I was fresh out of school, if I'd been in your position and offered training, I might have been tempted to go. Instead, I've learned what I need to know here among the rest of the world."

Clark thoughtfully rolled a rock around in his hand. "So you think I should go through with the training?"

"I can't say. When I was just out of college, I was restless. I needed to find the lonely places in the world where I could develop and test my abilities at my own pace. Your life has been different. I can't say I envy you, but I do think dealing with the meteor infected people of Smallville at a young age has given you some advantages."

Clark squinted up at him. "How do you figure?"

"The way I look at it, you've been in training the last six, seven years."

Clark went still. Training? All the years in high school and since then…had it all been training? Sure, every year he became better equipped to handle Smallville's problems and it was not as if he only dealt with Meteor Freaks. He'd seen all sides of humanity, the good, the bad and that which couldn't neatly be defined. Had those experiences readied him for who he was to become? Was he already there? He shook his head. "And yet, I'm just now figuring out the flying bit," he said sarcastically.

Kent pulled his glasses out of his pocket and began absentmindedly polishing the lenses. "The kind of training I'm talking about isn't only about the abilities the Earth's sun gives you and I. I'm referring to the mental discipline you've acquired. With those workers trapped underground, I know what I asked of you. Those tunnels were a tangled warren of dead ends, misleading echoes, and leaded blind spots. Not giving in to hopelessness took a different kind of strength. Perseverance was as important as super speed. You didn't give up. Those men survived because you kept a cool head. Same thing goes for the missile at Bride Lake."

Clark toed at the dirt. "You mean the missile that almost blew everyone up because I haven't learned to fly?"

Kent shook his head patiently and slipped his glasses back on. "No matter how skilled, or proficient I've become with my abilities, something new is always out there to remind me I can't prepare for every challenge ahead of time. You figured out how to stop the missiles without the full advantage of flight. I'd like to believe I could have done the same thing when I was your age, but I don't know."

Clark didn't know how to react to Kent's confidence in him or to the look of pride that accompanied his praise. Freud would probably have had a field day with the narcissistic undercurrents, but in reality, Clark couldn't think of the man with the glasses as a reflection of himself. Kent was a guide, a mentor, a brother and to have his confidence warmed a piece of his soul that had been chilled since his father's death. Maybe, just maybe, he was right. Maybe he had been in a kind of training all these years. Did that mean he didn't need anything more from Jor-el?

The only definite way to elude Jor-el's methods of control was to hide in this other world. Problem was, he didn't want to hide.

Clark started pacing again. "Half the time I'm convinced I need to just walk away and the other times I think I should just take the training. I know I do have something to offer to the world and I also have this restless feeling inside," Clark stopped and rubbed the spot over his heart. He surveyed the remote lake, cut off from most of the world and then turned back to face the man who had given him a glimpse of the future he wanted. "But it isn't the solitude of the Arctic, but the bustle of Metropolis that's calling me. This feeling, it's warring against the idea of completing Jor-el's training, training that maybe I'd be a fool not to take."

"I really don't know what kind of training this AI is offering, but ask yourself this." His softly spoke one question. "Can your world honestly afford to wait any longer for its Superman?"

A look of determination lit Clark's eyes. "I have to face Jor-el and make him understand."

Kent nodded, calmly accepting his decision. Clark tilted his head and looked at him more closely. "You knew I wouldn't stay." It was as much a statement as it was a question.

Kent pushed up his glasses and smiled ruefully. "As much as I wish it were, this isn't your world. If there was a chance to go back, I knew you would take it. I know I would."

"This could all fall apart." Clark shook his head, feeling the weight of the world resting on his shoulders. "I'm impulsive, I don't always see the big picture, I'm…" Kent placed a hand on his shoulder.

"More time will take care of that." He looked at the young man in front of him, remembering his earlier worries. Could one man alone, even a Superman, ever be enough? He glanced at the ring Lois had placed on his left hand and suddenly it was clear.

"Clark, I do think you are destined to take up the cape sooner than I was, but don't let that overwhelm you. You've been facing the kind of trials I didn't find until I moved to Metropolis. But when I came to Metropolis, I found more than just a way to help humanity. I couldn't be who I am if I didn't have Lois by my side. I don't know if I believe in destiny exactly, but I do know that some things are meant to be. Maybe that's why the universe made sure you had someone you could trust and rely on already at your side."

"Chloe."

****

* * *

Chloe smiled at Lois's sudden enthusiasm as she painted a picture of the Daily Planet's latest, most revered writing teams: first Lois and Clark, then Chloe and Cal, maybe even an all girls team up, Lois and Chloe or Chloe and Lois depending on who broke the story. She said something about Chloe naturally shooting to stardom after getting the exclusive interview from the Superfriend and how wouldn't the residents of Gotham be green with envy. The energetic brunette twirled around babbling about apartments and hidden rooms and ended with, "Martha always wanted to adopt more children."

Chloe ruefully shook her head. "I can't say I'm not tempted and if I didn't believe there was a way home, we probably wouldn't be having this conversation, but I don't think I could be satisfied always wondering if I only had my dreams by default."

"So it's back to the basement." Lois sighed and sunk back into the breakfast nook.

Chloe followed her and sat down at the other side of the table. "I don't intend to stay there forever. Give me some time and I'll work my way to the top and when I get there, at least I'll know I earned it."

Lois studied the determined gleam in her eyes before asking, "And Clark, are you trying to earn Clark too?"

Chloe winced. "I know very well that's not how the heart works. I can't force Clark to feel something anymore than I could force myself to stop feeling something."

"Stop that. No one and nothing is forcing him." Lois insisted. Chloe bit her lip, but stayed quiet. Lois cocked her head, a sudden insight taking root. "Is this about that Lana girl?"

"What? No!" An instant denial sprang to her lips.

Lois folded her arms, leaned back and waited, forcing Chloe to stop and analyze the question more carefully. She sighed and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, "I don't know, maybe a little bit. It's just that right now, Lana isn't even an option for Clark. She's not here. There's this petty and insecure part of me that wants him to have the option so I would know for certain that I'm his choice over anyone."

She shook her head and got to her feet again, unable to sit still. "But that's only the tiniest reason." She clasped her hands together and rested her chin on her fists. "I don't want to walk away from a life I've worked hard to build."

Lois nodded, and her understanding made Chloe's eyes sting. She blinked rapidly, but still had to use the back of her hand to keep a tear from falling. "My life isn't perfect and it's still under construction, but I know it's mine and I'm proud of what it's become so far. I'm not just talking about the Planet, but my work with Clark, helping when there isn't anyone else who can." She raised her shoulders in a self-deprecating shrug. "Which simply brings me back to Clark…our world needs Clark."

"Drat. I can't argue with that." Lois stood and went to the younger woman, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Ok then, I'm just going to stick my nose in just one more time. Go talk to Clark about your worries."

Chloe took a step back, a worry line creasing her forehead. "I don't know. I don't want him to think I have any doubts."

"Which is stupid, because you do." She softened her judgment with a smile.

"Stupid huh?" Chloe laughed for a second. "Last night," she paused and ran a hand back through her hair. "Was it only last night?" She asked in wonderment before giving herself a mental shake and finishing what she wanted to say. "Last night I promised myself no second-guessing and here I am already. I should have more faith in us, but we've never been this kind of us before."

"Not talking about it is only going to make it worse. Believe me, Clark and I have been there. What you are feeling is big and wonderful and yes, kind of scary, but you're not in it alone."

"I guess I'm not use to that either." The kitchen door swung open.

"You're going to have to get use to it."

"Clark!"


	41. Never Give Up

_**Author's note: YES, I deserve to be flogged for my long time away and even this isn't enough, but it's something and I do promise never to stop working on this story until it is done. **_

_Previously on Another World: _

_Lois went to the younger woman, and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Ok then, I'm going to stick my nose in just one more time. Go talk to Clark about your worries."_

_Chloe took a step back, a worry line creasing her forehead. "I don't know. I don't want him to think I have any doubts."_

"_Which is stupid, because you do." She softened her judgment with a smile._

"_Stupid huh?" Chloe laughed for a second. "Last night I promised myself no second-guessing and here I am already. I should have more faith in us, but we've never been this kind of us before."_

"_Not talking about it is only going to make it worse. Believe me, Clark and I have been there. What you are feeling is big and wonderful and yes, kind of scary, but you're not in it alone."_

"_I guess I'm not use to that either." The kitchen door swung open._

"_You're going to have to get use to it."_

"_Clark!"_

"Clark!" His name came out closer to a squeak than she liked. During the last few years, her lack of a scare reflex had become a secret source of pride. "How much did you hear?" She asked while nervously tucking her hair behind her ears.

Clark didn't answer but instead strode across the kitchen and took both of her hands. He laced his fingers through hers, joining them symbolically and literally as a unit. A wrinkle on Clark's forehead cut a deep groove between his brows. His jaw was set and his shoulders were bunched up. Tension seeped into his eyes as his clear green irises tenderly searched her face. She hated being the cause of his worries and wanted nothing more than to be able to wipe away all his concerns.

Kent, who had come through the swinging door behind Clark, spoke sofly to his wife. "Lois, let's give them a moment."

As they left, the gentle swooshing sound of the door seemed to free Chloe's tangled tongue. "Clark it's not like it sounds, I…"

"No. You don't have to say anything. I know I've given you plenty of reasons to doubt me. "

"It's not that I doubt you." She raised their entwined hands, and for a moment, rested her cheek against the back of his hand. "I told you I believed you and that I believe in us. I do." She lowered their hands and shrugged. "Call it old habits dying hard. I spent a long time trying to convince myself we were meant only to be good friends."

A frown twisted his mouth. "That's my fault."

"Clark, I didn't mean it that way."

"I know. It's just, I wish I could go back to that kid and knock some sense in him. I wasted so much time."

"Don't go there. For one, I don't want to waste _more_ time worrying about what we can't change. Secondly," she smirked, "time travel is soooo not on the agenda. Speaking of the agenda," she told him with a sudden sunny smile," there are a few things I need to fill you in on before we head back home."

Clark frowned and let her hands slide from his grip. He tilted his head to study her abrupt mood change. "That's it? Just change the subject?" Chloe's smile slipped and before she plastered it back in place, Clark felt a kick to his gut.

She'd worn that bright, brittle smile on the day after their Freshman Spring Formal while asking just to be friends again. It had graced her face the Monday following Prom, showing up during his off hand apology for missing a dance with the Queen. He'd seen her suffer through a hundred of his Lana whining sessions with the same sort of frozen unfocused look in her eyes and upon his return from the Phantom Zone, he'd put that look on her face when he lacked the guts to admit he couldn't stop thinking of their kiss.

How many times had he taken the easy or safe way out at the expense of her true feelings…and at the expense of his? It scared him to think how many other times he had willfully let himself be blinded by Chloe's determined cheerfulness. He refused to be blinded again. Lightly, yet firmly, he gripped her upper arms and he tried to make her understand.

"Chloe, you've been my best friend almost from the day we met and right away I envied your self-confidence and strength. There isn't anyone I rely on more than you."

"There isn't anyone I rely on more than you either," she replied without hesitation, though slightly confused.

"I'm glad, but I don't know if I've always made that easy." He paused to find the right words. "I hope I can convince you not to brush off what you're feeling. I don't want you to think you have to hide anything or pretend something. I want to know," he paused and shook his head for emphasis, "no, I _need_ to know what you are really thinking, not just what you think I can handle." A blush spread across her cheeks.

"You're right, I'm sorry, old habits." She mumbled embarrassed.

"I don't want you to apologize to me, that's the last thing I want."

"What are you saying?"

"Just that I want the chance to prove you don't have to hide anything."

She lifted her solemn eyes, searched his troubled face and finally spoke his name softly. "Clark…I'm not trying to hide anything from you. My doubts, they have been with me for a long time but I know they aren't completely rational and that makes talking about them hard." She offered him a rueful smile, "Maybe it will take some time to let everything sink in. Right now, it's like my dreams have all been handed to me and yes, there _is_ a part of me that is afraid this is too good to be true."

He tried to interrupt, but she shook her head, silently asking him to let her finish. She moistened her lips like she was working up her courage and then checking to make sure he was looking her in the eyes, she opened up her whole soul. "Being afraid doesn't mean I'm willing to give up. Nothing," she said the word slowly, with her heart in her eyes, "nothing could ever make me give up on you." Clark caught his breath as he was hit with the power of her words.

She wasn't making a promise. She was revealing an absolute truth.

A fierce gladness shot through Clark. This was why emotions were called feelings. In that moment there was nothing he could do but feel as a beautiful ache raced out from his heart, the sweetest kind of pain.

He asked for her trust and in answer, she stripped away her last defenses, openly acknowledging the power he wielded over her heart and willingly put in his hands, laid bare of denials, her whole existance. The urge to protect her physically, his small blond powerhouse, had been with him from the first day they'd met, but now he couldn't bear the thought of ever causing her another second of heartache or doubt.

Clark pulled Chloe tight against his chest, wrapped his arms around her and held on. He understood now: she was his strength, his weakness and the one true thing that remained constant no matter in what universe they resided.

He recognized this feeling of belonging. He'd felt it with Chloe long before he'd ever put a real name to it. As he rested his chin against the top of her silky hair, he thought of all the times he's looked at her and refused to see past a familiar friend. For years, he'd known Chloe was vital to him, but caught up in tinsel fantasies he didn't question why he needed her by his side. He wasn't sure he deserved her devotion but Jonathan Kent didn't raise a complete fool. It had almost taken him too long to fully understand the treasure in his life, but now, he wasn't about to ever let her go.

He loosened his hold only enough so Chloe could tilt her head back to look up at him. Thoughts of the sacrifices she'd made and all the pain he'd caused her were fresh in his mind. "I'll make it up to you," he promised and fell a little bit more in love when she rolled her eyes.

"I thought we talked about this. I told you before; you don't have to prove yourself to me."

"Yes I do, starting with telling you I understand the incredible opportunity you are giving up by passing on Mr. White's offer. I will make it up to you," he stressed again.

"Clark, I was flattered by his offer but I never really seriously considered taking it."

"Why not?" He asked almost casually. "I did."

"You thought about staying?" She asked in shock.

He traced the contours of her cheek as he answered. "I asked myself if I could imagine a future here, working with you and Lois and Kent at the Daily Planet and helping Superman keep the world safe."

He smiled. "I don't need any kind of imagination to know we could have a good life here and Jor-el," Clark glanced down briefly, "Jor-el wouldn't ever be a problem again, but," he took a deep breath and his eyes darkened with determination, I have to go back. I have to face him. I have to risk what…or who… his training might make me become, because I think our world might need…

"Its own Superman? Oh, Clark," she sighed stroking his hair, "Yes, of course our world needs you. I know that. I believe in you. I always have."

"I know." he affirmed with a touch of wonderment in his voice. "I don't know if I've always deserved your faith, but I'm going to try."

He cupped the side of her face with his hand and let it slide down her neck and when his thumb grazed her pulse, he could feel her heartbeat speed up. Her fair complexion could not hide the delicate flush of heat that rushed to warm her cheeks and that helped stain her lips a deep succulent pink, like the color of strawberry jam. Streaming in through the kitchen windows, the late afternoon sunlight glided her cool blond tresses and matched the gold flecks in her hazel eyes.

"You're so beautiful," he exhaled.

Her blush deepened but the appreciation she saw in his eyes kept her from making one of her usual comebacks. Instead, her mouth curved upward and joy lit her face. "You make me feel beautiful."

Her genuine smile blazed like the sun and like the yellow orb circling the Earth's sky, it made Clark feel reborn. "So alive," he murmured before doing what he'd wanted to do since walking in the kitchen. He gave in to his senses and met her lips with his own, pressing against her mouth's gently parted softness and seeking entry. Chloe's arms wound around his neck and her hands slid into his hair, urging him to boldness. He kept one hand at the small of her back and used the other to support her head as he dipped her back, deepening the kiss.

Chloe felt the world tip but didn't pause in her own heated explorations. Secure in Clark's arms, nothing, not even gravity, could intrude on her pleasure.

**** ****** ******* ********** ******** ********* ********

Martha handed off one of the grocery bags she was carrying to her husband and with her free hand rooted around in her purse for the front door key to the kid's townhome.

"Martha, I'm about to lose my melon." Already loaded down with several shoeboxes stacked against his chest, a garment bag slung over his shoulder, and a colorful array of wide shopping bags hanging on his arms; the additional brown paper sack tilted precariously under his chin and the fresh honeydew was edging toward freedom

"One second Jonathan, let me get the door unlocked." She fitted, then turned the key in the door and nudged it open with her shoulder before awkwardly reclaiming her third grocery bag from her husband.

"Next time Martha, we let the market deliver." He advised from behind his towering load.

"You think?" She laughed while trying to see around the celery stocks pointing out the top of one of her other sacks. The living room was empty and the house seemed quiet. With a hefty sigh, Jonathan deposited his burdens on the couch and then reached for a couple of the bags Martha was still carrying.

"Let me help you get these into the kitchen."

She very willingly parted with the bags. "Thank you. Uhg, I swear the bag boy added rocks."

"The magically disappearing kind that you know are there, but can never find when you empty out the bags?"

"Exactly." She grinned while backing into the kitchen door. "After we finish putting these groceries away, let's see if we can track down all the kids. They must be around here somewhere."

"Closer than you think."

Martha stared for a moment at the picture Clark and Chloe made sitting across from one another at the breakfast nook, calmly sipping tea. She didn't try to stifle her smile. "We weren't interrupting anything, were we?" She asked slyly.

Clark stood. "Here," he said taking from Martha her bag and setting it next to the refrigerator, "let us put these things away for you." Jonathan, on the heels of he wife, looked around, let one snort loose, relinquished his paper sacks to Clark and left the room.

"Wonderful idea," Martha gushed. "I have loads to put away upstairs, anyway. I'll just leave you two alone." She called to them over her shoulder while shooting one last significant look Chloe's way.

Clark shook his head as Chloe came to him. "I'm confused. For once my superhearing kept someone from sneaking up on us and still they acted like they walked in on us kissing."

Chloe laughed and wrapped her arms around him as she leaned into his side. "Superhearing and superspeed are great, but they do very little when it comes to the lip gloss smeared all over your face."

_Author's note: Soon Clark and Chloe will be heading back to their universe. Next chapter should see them on their way._


	42. Fortune Cookies and Straightjackets

_Author's Note: I promised a few people I would have this chapter up only a week or so after the last chapter. It's not my fault! My internet went down and it took three weeks to fix it. _

_The second part of this chapter visits with Bruce and Oliver and picks up pretty much from where I left off with them in the second half of the __**37**__**th**__ chapter, just an FYI._

After Clark and Chloe finished putting away the groceries and the Kents stowed their packages upstairs in the guest bedroom, most everyone regrouped back in the living room. Lois began explaining to Martha and Jonathan her "I was born Chloe Sullivan and assumed the name of Lois Lane" revelation while Clark briefly traded his glasses for a cape, stopped a would be mugging and made a quick trip to Canton to pick up the best Chinese food to come out of the People's Republic. Before his parents picked their jaws up off the floor, he was back with a basket filled full of bamboo containers keeping their delectable contents steaming hot.

The senior Kents found their equilibrium rapidly and as the lids came off the dumplings, Martha was looking back and forth between Lois, Chloe and the two Clarks and marveling over how everything now made sense.

Around the time the fortune cookies came out, the topic turned to Chloe and Clark's trip home.

"_Bountiful love brings a bountiful life,"_ Kent translated the Chinese characters aloud and then handed the scrap of paper back to his mother and took the one his father held out to him. "_Like water from the mountains, true wisdom constantly flows_."

"Here, read mine." Lois mumbled around the last piece of her cookie.

Clark nudged up his glasses. "_A dutiful wife sleeps with the goat_."

"What? It does not say that." She grabbed the fortune and studied it as if she could make sense of the lines and squiggles.

Clark chuckled. "It does."

"Ha! Well, I guess that makes you the goat." She stuck her tongue out playfully, and then turned to point at couple across from them on the couch. "You're up next." They dutifully passed over their fortunes.

Kent unfolded Clark's first and read, "_From far off lands, the journey home brings enlightenment._" Chloe and Clark exchanged knowing smiles and he inched closer, putting his arm behind Chloe, resting on the back of the couch.

"Oh that's too perfect," exclaimed Lois and clapping her hands together. Her wonder quickly turned to suspicion and with narrowed eyes, she peered at her husband. "Did you peek before handing the fortune cookies out? Goat indeed," she grumbled under her breath.

Amused and grinning, Kent shook his head. "No, I swear I didn't look."

"Fine. What does Chloe's fortune say?"

He glanced down at the slip of paper and his smile faltered. "_Take heed, travel is not advised_." The lighthearted atmosphere in the living room crashed and everyone's gaze fixed on Chloe.

She looked around the room noting the frozen looks of concern before rolling her eyes. "Please," the sarcasm dripped out. "Don't tell me you've all suddenly gone superstitious. Fortune cookies didn't even originate in China. Someone in the U.S. came up with the idea and shipped the novelty act back over the Great Wall." She gestured to Kent. "What about your fortune? What does it say?" Lois retrieved his untouched cookie off the coffee table and handed it to her husband.

He broke the crunchy confection apart and pulled out the scrap of paper within. He glanced up at his expectant audience and read, "_Every day a man will get hungry. Call Ho Jan Woo for your catering needs_."

Chloe smiled smugly, Lois snorted and the rest of the crowd relaxed. "So much for ancient Chinese secrets."

"Ha, no kidding," Martha chimed in as she got to her feet and began stacking plates.

"No Mom, sit." Kent waved his mother away.

"Yes Martha, please relax. Clark and I will take care of everything." Lois took the plates away from Martha and gathered up the utensils while her husband picked up the leftover containers and garbage and followed her into the kitchen.

"So Clark," Jonathan Kent began saying as he sunk more comfortable down into the cushions on the couch, crossing his arms lightly over his belly. "Now that you have that watch devise," Martha interrupted to correct him.

"The resonator recorder, dear."

"Right, resonator recorder. So what happens now that you have it?"

Clark looked to Chloe to explain. She folded her hands together on her lap. "We wait until the next prescheduled retrieval time, a little after midnight, and hope Milton and Victor are all set up at the new lab."

Lois popped her head around the door, "Does anybody want wine?" Clark and Chloe declined while Martha and Jonathan said yes.

"So the lab isn't operating out of the Met U basement anymore?" Martha asked, returning to the conversation.

"No. Campus security finally noticed the power spikes."

"Where's the lab now?"

"I have no idea. I had to leave that detail in Bruce's hands."

Clark sat up a little straighter. He looked at Chloe. "Bruce? Who is Bruce?"

"Bruce Wayne," Lois answered as she returned from the kitchen. "He financed our little hop across the universe."

"Wayne Enterprise's Bruce Wayne? The multi-billionaire out of Gotham City?" Jonathan sputtered as Lois sat down and began pouring the wine.

"The one and the same," she paused and passed goblets to the senior Kents, "and if Chloe is right, also Gotham's most notorious crime fighter."

"Batman?" Kent came back from the kitchen adjusting the frames of his glasses and sounding stunned. "Bruce Wayne is the Batman?" He sat next to his wife and mindlessly accepted his wine.

"It's an unconfirmed hunch," Chloe was quick to add, not entirely comfortable exposing anyone's secret.

Clark wrinkled his forehead, not sure how much he liked the sound of the billionaire or his extra curricular activities. "What is a bat man?"

Chloe's eyes gleamed as they always did when she talked about the bizarre or unexplained. "Think Green Arrow with a cape, a kick ass car, and a penchant for hanging off the side of buildings," she informed him with growing enthusiasm. "He hasn't yet made it out of Gotham's tabloids, but one of my contacts in Gotham PD confirms he's no fairy tale." The bright shine in Chloe's eyes answered Clark's question. Nope, he wasn't a fan of bat man.

Lois nodded. "Here Batman is as almost as well known as Superman, at least in Gotham City."

"Bruce Wayne is Batman," Kent murmured aloud, stuck on his own train of thought. "He's a hard hero to track down, even for Superman. There have been plenty of interesting stories surrounding his unusual methods." He leaned deeper into the couch and nodded to himself. "I think in the near future Superman will be having a little chat with the Caped Crusader."

Lois patted his hand. "Well, on behalf of his other self, be nice. We wouldn't be here if he hadn't out laid the cash needed to make repairs. Chloe's savings account was wiped bare for the first retrieval attempt and the banks weren't interested in helping if it meant twenty thousand plus."

Clark was jolted out of a rather petty daydream involving heat vision and grappling lines by Lois's announcement. "Chloe, your college savings," He took her hand in his and gently squeezed, feeling stricken by yet another one of Chloe's sacrifices.

"Never mind," Chloe shrugged, "I was planning on working full time and switching to night classes anyway."

"The question is," Kent continued his conversation with Lois, "why was he interested in helping?"

Clark was very interested too.

"He's a friend of Oliver Queen." Chloe answered and explained the Green Arrow to Martha and Jonathan.

Clark frowned. "He worked for him? Part of his league like A.C. or Bart?"

"No, I don't think so, more like they were separately in the same line of work. I don't know any details, but if anything, I'd say Oliver was the one getting help from Bruce."

Kent crossed his arms. "That still doesn't explain why Bruce was financing Davinhoe and Hamlish."

Lois smiled into her wine glass. "I think that might have had something to do with the fancy he took to Chloe."

"Lois!" Chloe exclaimed, embarrassed. "It wasn't like that," she hastily assured the rest of the room, not quite able to look at Clark.

"Right, so it was Milt and Vic, the squabbling science geeks, that Bruce wined and dined at the Carousel Club before personally piloting his helicopter back to Smallville." Lois shook her head. "You don't give yourself enough credit."

Chloe whimpered a little. "I think you are giving me too much credit."

Clark's frown deepened. "He took you to dinner?" A billionaire crime fighter took Chloe to the fanciest restaurant in Metropolis and he hadn't even taken her on a date.

"It was a business meeting with an interested investor. I didn't even know it was Bruce until I arrived and I didn't get Bruce's last name or know just _who_ Bruce was until halfway though dinner."

Clark wasn't sure he liked how freely Bruce's name flowed off her tongue. "Then he flew you home?" He liked that even less. Somehow, it felt like an encroachment on his thing, even if he only recently figured out the flying.

"He had to; I refused to go back with him to his hotel."

"What?" The more she explained, the worse he felt. He wasn't jealous, not really.

Ok, a little.

He knew though, by Chloe's reaction, that this Bruce wasn't a threat, but he wasn't positive if Bruce aka the bat man knew it. He found comfort in knowing bat man was even a sillier name than the Super Friend.

"Clark, it was all just a game," She said dismissively. "I'm sure any attempts at flattery were just a knee jerk reaction to pass the time while he followed his own agenda. Hitting on anything in a skirt is a part of his persona. Not a whole lot different from Oliver."

"Oliver doesn't pretend to go out with a different girl each night ; he does go out with a different girl each night." Clark looked uncomfortable.

Chloe let out a huff. "Like I haven't heard that tidbit a hundred times with Lois as my cousin. Believe me, since she and Ollie broke up, I've heard all about his exploits whether I wanted to or not. However, Bruce was different. Dinner, the phone calls, the flattery, it was all just a game that we both were playing and one that worked to our advantage since he was willing to part with the cash to satisfy his curiosity."

Lois choked on her wine and started coughing, though it sounded suspiciously like suppressed laughter. Chloe replayed in her mind what she just said and blushed. "The project," she stressed. "He was willing to pay to satisfy his curiosity about the project." She glanced at Lois who was staring with renewed interest at her window blinds, doing her best to look innocent. Chloe turned back to reassure Clark. "Anyway, the important thing to remember is Bruce agreed to take charge and move the lab."

"Speaking of taking charge," Lois absently swirled her red wine and Chloe almost groaned, guessing what she was going to bring up next. "Mr. Wayne was awfully concerned with the risk you were taking coming to this world. Right before I left, he even insisted on taking your place, what did you say to convince him not to go?"

Chloe felt her cheeks go hot. Everyone in the room waited on her answer. "It wasn't so much what I said, as what I did."

"What did you do dear?" Martha inquired innocently.

"I, uhm, distracted him," she waved her hand in a vague manner, "and used my stun gun at close range."

Jonathan spoke up, "You don't think he'd hold a grudge, do you?"

Chloe hesitated before shaking her head. "Not so that it would keep him from fulfilling the promise he made long before he tried to take my place in front of the AU-Ray. Plus Martha, Senator Kent," she clarified, "was there to remind him of his commitments in case my, ah, distraction method clouded his judgment for the moment."

Lois raised an eyebrow and smirked. "I think you're holding out. Just how did you distract someone as determined as Bruce Wayne?"

Chloe tried to skirt the question. "Is it important? It got the job done."

Before answering, Lois put her empty wine glass on the table and snuggled into her husband's side, his arm settling around her. "Oh, I don't know. I just thought maybe you'd like to pass on an effective technique, something Superman can use during his chat with Batman."

Chloe grinned and snickered at the image that instantly popped into her head and couldn't resist sharing. "Oh, if he pulled it off, I can guarantee a reaction, but I'm not sure the Dark Knight would be receptive to Big Blue's pucker power."

"You kissed him!" Lois pointed and laughed. "I knew it."

"Oh my," Martha gasped and tittered while Jonathan and her son wisely held their respective tongues.

"You kissed him?" Clark asked morosely, turning a pair of puppy dog eyes on Chloe.

"No! No." She stopped laughing. "I almost kissed him and when he wasn't looking, bam." Chloe made a thrusting motion with her hand.

The sad eyes vanished and a twinkle appeared instead. "So no kissing," Clark verified, "just a massive jolt of electricity." He liked the sound of that.

Chloe bit her lip. "He was still twitching on the floor when I left," she said remorsefully.

Clark draped his arm directly around Chloe's shoulders and pulled her snugly up against his side. "I'm sure he recovered just fine," he reassured her. Suddenly Clark was in a fantastic mood. Maybe, he thought to himself with a grin, maybe he'd give this Batman a chance after all.

* * *

************* ***************** **************

"You're telling me that Clark Kent was zapped into parallel universe and Chloe Sullivan went to bring him home?" Agitated, Oliver Queen ran his hand through his short blond hair, the $500 haircut springing back perfectly into place. His eyes darted to where Bruce slouched with a sardonic grin against the balcony railing as the deepening twilight settled around him. "You do realize you sound insane, don't you?" Oliver asked.

Bruce raised an eyebrow and Oliver shook his head. "And since I believe you, I must be just as crazy."

"Welcome to the booby hatch, straightjackets optional."

"Make mine green." Oliver might have seen the corner of Bruce's mouth twitch in amusement, but wasn't sure. He started pacing; it helped him focus on the questions at hand. "How close are your people to having a working machine?" .

"The machine is ready. The problem has been not having a steady power flow. A drastic drop in current during retrieval and our travelers end up neither here nor there, with their particles dispersed in a million possibilities." A dark frown settled on Bruce's brow. "You've seen the specs and know the new power grid, will it hold?"

Oliver nodded. "The second grid is perfectly stable. It should feed you all the power needed as long as there are no unexpected demands."

"Unexpected demands?"

Oliver pointed to a brightly lit skyscraper in the eastern skyline. "Luthor Corp is on the same grid and on two previous occasions, the tower went dark during a spike in energy demand which I traced back to guess where."

"Luthor Corp. I don't suppose everyone turned on their computers at the same time?" Bruce asked caustically.

"At 3 am? At 5 am? No, Lex was up to something, but shut down or moved the project before I could figure out what. There has been no activity for months now. I wouldn't worry. "

"Why stop now? This building has access to two power grids. What's the issue with the first one? Any way to make it a viable backup?"

Oliver stopped pacing and thrust his hands deep within his pockets, jangling some coins restlessly. "No time now. I had an inspector in before I bought the place. The default grid can handle a normal usage of power, but a consistent, high demand opens up all the relay switches for the main distribution 'bus' cable and it's an old building. One or more of them is shorting or something." He leaned against the balcony doors and shrugged before continuing.

"I'll have to bring in someone to bypass the faulty switches. They whole substation is located near the top of the elevator shaft, which mean access to them shuts down the building's elevator service for a week. The issue hasn't been that pressing."

"It's pressing now. A temporary bypass shouldn't be hard to rig."

"Forget it. Like I said, it's an old building. The power substation and the regulator banks have major grounding issues. Right now there's no way to cut power at that substation so when the switches are bypassed, if you are touching anything that is touching anything, even a rope attached to the building, you will become the electrical ground and…"

"And a couple megawatts of current will tear right through your body. Beautiful," he muttered darkly, making the word a curse.

"Why do you think the elevator will be out for a week? I have to hire a helicopter crew to cut through the roof and do the work while suspended from a wire."

Bruce scowled. "Nice death trap you've got here Queen."

He shrugged again. "Hey, it's home," he said and changed the subject. "So, when does all this go down?"

"If the second grid is stable as promised, we're looking at retrieval tonight. Provided," he added in casual tones, "that Ms. Sullivan was able to find Kent."

Oliver scoffed at the chances of that failure. "Chloe will get her man." His complete confidence seemed to exacerbate the spasmodic twitching of the muscles in Bruce's jaw.

"Anything I should know about Kent?"

"Clark?" Oliver feigned surprise.

"Something tells me he's not you're average Kansas farm boy." He ground out, dropping any pretense of casual. Bruce adjusted his stance against the railing and the small menacing change telegraphed a clear message; deception would not be tolerated.

"You'd be right," Oliver admitted, "but his story isn't mine to tell."

"Bart Allen, Arthur Curry, Victor Stone." Bruce spat out the names. You would never have known they existed. I gave them to you. You owe me."

He did owe him, but the last thing he wanted to do was try explaining Cark Kent the Kryptonian. Talk about straightjacket fittings. "Let's just say the Boy Scout is one of the good guys and if he ever got off his duff…," Oliver shook his head in wonder. "You have no idea."

"I'd have a better idea if you gave me facts instead of the verbal two-step," he barked, but for the moment circled around the question from another angle. "Sullivan then. Spill. Does she work for you?"

Oliver happily moved on to the safer topic. "She has freelanced a time or two. Some Watchtower duties, but she'll never be anything more than part time. Her heart is in journalism, the old-fashioned ink and paper kind, go figure."

"Not any paper. Her passion is the Daily Planet." Bruce corrected. He'd found the time to do his homework on a surprisingly deep subject.

Oliver nodded thoughtfully. "You might be right." A far away look clouded his eyes. "That might be the key to moving her to full time status. Everyone in finance knows the Dailey Planet is ripe for a take over. Rumor has it that Luthor is sniffing around." Oliver rubbed his hands together in anticipation. "I doubt Sullivan would retain her enthusiasm for that place while working for Lex. Hell, he might just fire her."

"That's not going to happen."

"No?"

"The rumors might not be wrong, but Luthor Corp won't be acquiring the Daily Planet."

"Why not?"

"Because Wayne Enterprises already has."

Oliver blinked a few times in surprise. "You bought the Daily Planet to protect Chloe Sullivan's job?"

Bruce laughed scornfully. "A billion dollar deal based on a basement dweller's best interests? I took advantage of the time I was stuck in Metropolis to acquire a valuable asset. The Daily Planet isn't just another newspaper. It's still the paper of record for kings and presidents even if the last string of publishers couldn't see past their ad revenue projections. With the right leadership, the Planet will thrive."

"So this was purely a business decision?" He asked, still skeptical.

"If you must know, my father always kept a subscription. Said if you read it in the Planet, you could believe it. I can't stand the thought of Lex Luthor tarnishing its reputation for the truth. Too much in this world has already eroded."

Oliver nodded in understanding. "Well that blows any chance to lure Sullivan into permanent league status. You have no idea how hard it is to find someone with those kinds of investigation skills who also knows how to keep a secret." He sighed dramatically over the loss before cynically adding, "Probably for the best anyway. Kent gets downright testy when any of her league work involves risk."

"Add my name to that list."

Oliver looked sharply at Bruce and wondered anew if buying the Planet was more than an investment with the bonus of thumbing the nose of Lex Luthor. He continued to stare at Wayne but that mocking smile was back in place and Bruce didn't flinch under scrutiny. For a few minutes, nothing but the silence of the city at night stretched between them, but finally Oliver nodded, conceding he was not going to get any answers to his deeper questions. "Ok, no field work," he agreed.

"Good."

"Though you should know, Chloe Sullivan will find risk all on her own."

"On her own," Bruce challenged, "or because of Clark Kent? Every news clipping, every police report, ever raving rant to leak out of Belle Reeve detailing a misadventure of Miss Sullivan seems to directly or indirectly tie back to your boy scout."

"So this is about Clark Kent."

"Save you psychoanalyzing for someone else, but there are plenty of unusual stories about Kent and his tendency to play the hero; I like answers." Bruce crossed his arms and braced himself better against the balcony railing, sinking into the shadows now that the night's darkness had fully fallen on the city. "In a couple hours, we will activate the AU-ray and retrieve Ms. Sullivan and her elusive Mr. Kent and then," he smiled in anticipation, "he and I are going to have a nice little chat."

_Author's note: I promise the next chapter should come in just a couple weeks. If the muses smile, cut that in half. _


	43. Hysteria

_Author's note: Ok, that wasn't exactly a two week turn around._

"Aww, the poor worn out dear, I think she's asleep." Mrs. Kent's mothering tones slipped past the pleasant haze into which Chloe was sinking.

"No, not quite," she mumbled. Her tongue felt thick and clumsy. Answering took all her concentration as she fought against the lethargy pulling her back toward slumber. Chloe then moved on to the next challenge: removing a set of twenty-pound sandbags off her eyes. She squinted against the light.

"If you're tired dear, maybe you should lie down and take a nap."

"No," she said keeping her reply simple. Spend her final hours in a parallel universe asleep? Yeah, right. That was not going to happen even if it meant leaving the couch and the cozy comfort of Clark. She yawned and realized she must have started dozing off when the boys began discussing the antique tractors they'd glimpsed in between rounding up Intergang thugs, infiltrating an underground bunker and stopping a trio of missiles at the Bride Lake Tractor and Threshing Show

Mr. Kent, senior, joined in and the topic moseyed over to maintenance techniques. The last thing Chloe recalled was Jonathan peppering her Clark with questions about welding a rear axel pin.

If she in general tuned out the Kent men's conversation, she certainly tuned in to one particular Kent. Between the warmth radiating off Clark's body, the pleasant rumble of his voice, and the comforting weight of his arm keeping her tucked close against him, every one of her muscles had melted into a puddle of goo. A jaw-popping yawn left Chloe's eyes watering. Martha was right; she was tired, but tired never stopped her before.

"I need coffee."

"I'll make you some," Martha volunteered.

Chloe shook her head. "If I don't get up now, I _will_ fall asleep," she stressed.

"Do you want help?" Clark asked standing with her as she reluctantly got to her feet.

"No, keep talking tractors. I may not know the wheelbase height difference between the 1947 and 1955 Farmall Tractor, but there isn't a coffee maker in any universe I can't handle."

In the bright (too bright) and cheery (too cheery) warmth of the kitchen, a run of the mill Mr. Coffee made her boast easy to keep. She dumped down the drain the re-warmed sludge from earlier in the day and ran water to rinse out the pot while stifling an after shock to her previous epic yawn. Better make an extra strong batch, she thought and added four more scoops of Lois's fresh ground Arabica beans to the brewer. Midnight was still a few hours away and she needed to remain sharp even if the only thing required from her was waiting.

Waiting sucked.

Always had, always would. To make maters worse, waiting gave her too much time to think about the tremendous amount of energy that was going to be reaching out unchecked across the universes to yank them back through a metaphorical curtain. It was, well…unnerving. Even with the prearranged retrieval times – it all seemed so abrupt. Here one moment, gone the next. No control. No say.

At least with the AU-ray, you stood on the X and they zapped you with their crazed gadget right in front of your eyes – no surprises. She didn't doubt the process; she had faith in its success, but she just didn't like the caught unaware factor. What if you weren't completely ready? What if you were leaning against a wall or sitting on a couch?

Kerplop?

The mental picture, starring Clark looking dumbfounded on his keister, started Chloe' snickering. She clamped a hand tightly over her mouth when her suppressed giggles edged toward sounding like the mating call for a hyena.

Ok, she was more than a little punch drunk if imagined pratfalls came this close to inducing hysterical laughter. The day which had started very early, (if verrrry nicely), was preceded by more than a week's worth of very early's, topped off with an equally long string of very late's.

She couldn't wait to fall into a familiar bed and let the rest of the world get by without her. Out in the living room, she heard a trio of masculine laughter and Clark's face flashed before her. She bit her lip and reconsidered. Ok, not the entire world and maybe a somewhat unfamiliar bed might be welcome. Very welcome, if it came equipped with a cuddly Kryptonian.

Be specific, the reporter in her head advised and she gave a name to her state of the art bed warmer.

Clark.

Precision and accuracy were very important otherwise she would only have herself to blame if Brainiac or Zod or some other alien ultimate destroyer showed up in his place. However, she paused to consider, her requirements did specify cuddly and Chloe couldn't imagine the would-be-conqueror of Krypton or the Brain Interactive Construct associated with that adjective.

Nope, no one would do but her Clark. And together, they would figure out how to…um…shake hands while Clark remained powered up. She snorted at her own joke, knowing she was overtired and being silly but also reveling in the freedom to think the thoughts previously allowed free reign only deep in the night's dark depths. She'd been very good at convincing herself by morning that her longings and fantasies were merely the product of uncontrollable dreams.

But this was no dream; Clark loved her.

Chloe wrapped her arms around her middle and hugged the knowledge close to her heart. She closed her eyes, blocking from her sight the copper kettles hanging over the island in the Kent's kitchen, unwilling to divert even the smallest bit of her attention from this glowing feeling inside.

Minutes later when Clark came through the door, he found her that way. Her smile made him smile.

"Chloe, what are you doing?" He asked with amusement. She answered without opening her eyes.

"Being happy."

Clark felt his heart swell. "It looks good on you," he told her quietly.

"I'm glad you like the look." She opened her eyes and deepened her smile. "I have a feeling it will be making an appearance a lot more often."

"I'll do my part."

Feeling bold and probably just a little bit giddy from lack of sleep, Chloe took three steps forward and went up on her tippy-toes to wind her arms around his neck. "And I'll do mine," she promised before brushing her lips across his. In the background, she heard a phone ring but was more interested in the feel of Clark's arms tightening around her middle and his soft lips nibbling back at hers than worrying about possible interruptions.

"Chloe, it's Star Labs on the phone," Lois called as she leaned half way into the kitchen, not paying any attention to the embrace happening in front of the percolating coffee pot.

Chloe frowned but did not unwind her arms. "Is there something wrong with the watch?"

"I don't know. Dr. Davinhoe only said he has some background questions about the hair sample you provided. Something about the chemical process."

Chloe rolled her eyes. "He probably wants to know brand I use to bleach my hair." She nodded toward the cordless on the wall and told Lois. "I'll get it in here."

"Ok." She glanced meaningfully at the man in Chloe's arms and winked. "I'll let him know you'll be a minute."

Clark sighed and gave Chloe a quick peck before stepping back. "Go talk to the Doctors, I only meant to stop and tell you I'm going with Kent on one last patrol." Concern flashed on Chloe's face. "Don't worry. This is routine stuff and it's not yet eight o'clock. Midnight is still hours away."

"Just in case time gets away from you, take the watch with you. Please?"

Clark held up his wrist. "I have it, but don't worry. I'll be back no later than eleven." As he turned to go, Chloe caught his arm.

"Wait." She bit her lower lip and looked shyly at the floor.

Confused, Clark tilted his head to the side. "What is it?"

Chloe raised her eyes off the patterned linoleum. "Um, I assume you are going out in costume."

"Yeah."

"Can I see it?"

Clark froze for half a second before unbuttoning the top four buttons of his shirt and folding back the material so that both the deep blue edging and the black sheen of the snugly fitting suit showed. Chloe shook her head. "All of it. Can I see all of it? Please?" Her cheeks bloomed bright pink but she continued to look at him expectantly. Clark swallowed hard and then in a whirl of flying clothes stood before her, fully in costume, right down to the mask and boots.

The suit fit him like a second skin and the tightly stretched ebony material rippled with light over the contours of his well-defined muscles. Chloe's breath caught in her throat and she shivered. Her reaction had Clark shifting his weight uneasily and feeling his tight suit becoming even tighter. "Don't tell me you have a thing for uniforms," he muttered embarrassed and just a touch grumpy.

She cocked her head to the side and took a moment to analyze the outfit before licking her lips and shaking her head. "It's not the suit." She pronounced and took a step closer. "It's the man under the suit." She gave a breathy laugh. "Not that you don't look good. You do. Oh my, do you ever look good."

She sighed and Clark felt her hot breath on his chest even through the tight material. He was afraid to move, afraid he might somehow cause her to stop as she reached out her hands and lightly ran her fingertips up over his abs. Her fleeting touch caused the muscles to tighten and his stomach jump back. She hardly noticed as her hands continued to travel up over his chest, to the side of his neck and then into his hair. "Something just doesn't look right about the color." Her fingers fluttered at his temples. "And something really doesn't look right about this mask."

"I'll take it off. I'll take it all off," he whispered as he leaned into Chloe and inhaled. Her shampoo this time was floral instead of citrus, but underneath the perfume was the intrinsic Chloe scent he craved. Her fragrance contained a ting of an even headier musk, signaling he wasn't the only one succumbing to arousal. "Chloe, I need…"

"Clark dear," Martha interrupted, popping her head in the kitchen. "My son asked me to tell you he's gone ahead. There's a fire downtown at the Lex Tower Apartments."

Clark groaned. "Chloe I have to..."

"Go," Chloe finished his sentence and stepped back. "I know. I'll see you when you return. Go." She gave him a light push. He glanced over his shoulder before whooshing out the backdoor.

"Hmm."

Chloe turned toward the sound to see Martha thoughtfully tapping her index finger against her lips and staring at where Clark last stood. "What is it?" Chloe asked.

"Oh it's nothing really, just that black doesn't suit him as well as I thought it might. Hmm, perhaps there is time," she muttered.

"Time for what?" Chloe inquired curiously.

Martha didn't answer and instead nodded toward the phone. "Don't forget Star Labs dear," and slipped out of the kitchen.

Chloe put aside the minor puzzle and picked up the cordless extension off the wall. "Hello, Dr. Davinhoe?"

"Ah, good, yes, Chloe Sullivan. Let me get right to the point. In our analysis of the follicle sample you provided we have run into an anomaly not congruent with our expectations. We've rerun the findings using up a majority of the sample and require additional material for subsequent experiments but also need a substantively different base source to fully expound on our discovery's potential."

"Wait, you need another lock of hair and what else?" Davinhoe mentioned something about a blood sample and launched into a detailed explanation that Chloe tuned out as Lois came through the door with her keys and purse in hand. Chloe pressed the mute button and let Davinhoe continue to prattle. "Going somewhere?" She queried even though Lois's destination was obvious.

"I've been cooped up in the house all day."

"And a towering inferno is just the source of fresh air you need." Chloe quipped.

"Coming?" Lois asked, wagging her eyebrows and enticingly jangling her car keys in the air.

Chloe felt the familiar spike of adrenaline that accompanied the chance to be in on a breaking story. "Sure, just one…" Chloe broke off in the middle of her sentence as a phrase from over the phone caught her ear. Her thumb slid off the mute button.

"What did you say?" Chloe asked in a rush of words, turning away from Lois to shield her expression.

"I said it was a match so I need to run another test."

"Wait, what was a match?" She heard the Doctor sigh before he began speaking again.

"Within most of the internal structure of the hair follicle was a mineral trace unlike anything I have ever seen. Happily, a colleague of mine, Dr Bernard Klein, matched it with a meteorite he had on hand, but now insists on speaking with you."

A meteorite kept at Star Labs by the closest thing Superman had to a personal physician? The significance of Dr. Davinhoe's words hit her quick and hard. She regretted her earlier appetite as her dinner roiled riotously about in her stomach. She pressed a hand to her abdomen to try to ease her discomfort and took a deep breath to try to steady her nerves and stave off another wave of debilitating nausea.

Despite making an effort, Chloe knew she didn't keep the shakiness out of her voice when she promised to be there in ten minutes.

Lois came up behind her as she disconnected and hung up the phone. "What's wrong? What did Star Labs want?"

Chloe turned and faced Lois with her wits still scattered and gave an edited answer. "They need another sample of hair and some blood too, for their tests. My cells are still fully in tune with my universe and they want more material for their tests. Can you drop me at Star Labs? I need to give them what they need to run their tests."

"Tests? What kind of tests? You should hear yourself. Chloe, what is going on?"

Chloe opened her mouth, but no words came out. She didn't want to say it aloud and make her fears that much more real. "Please, I just need to do this. I need to know."

"Know what?"

If she was going to realize her worst nightmare and spend the rest of her life locked up in Bell Reeve. How long before she became another sad Smallville statistic, going crazy and trying to kill someone or worse, succeeding. Another terror popped in her mind. She knew about Clark's one weakness. What if she tried to use it against him?

No!

No.

No. The truth of her subconscious denial rang true, nothing could make her turn against Clark. Some of the tightness in her chest eased and her erratic pulse settled into a steadier beat. Ok, panicking wasn't going to accomplish anything. First things first. She needed to get to Star Labs and confirm that the trace mineral found in her hair sample was actually Kryptonite. Second…ok, right now she couldn't think past first.

"Chloe answer me." Lois insisted.

"Please Lois, right now I just need to know if you can give me a ride to Star Labs or if I should call a cab."

"You're not going to tell me what is going on, are you."

Chloe said nothing. How could she explain it to Lois when she wasn't ready to even think the word?

"Fine. You want to go to Star Labs, we'll go, but I'm not dropping you off. Maybe Dr. Davinhoe or Hamlish will be a little more forthcoming when I talk to them."

Chloe bit back the panicked "no" that wanted to erupt. Her instinct was to assure Lois everything was fine and handle Star Labs on her own…but she wasn't fine. She was borderline terrified at what a conversation with this Dr. Klein might confirm.

If Clark had been here, he wouldn't have had to worry about seeing past a pasted on smile. This was a burden she desperately longed to share with Clark. But Clark wasn't here and even if the fire at the Lex Tower Apartments proved minor, short of jumping out a window and taking her chances, she didn't have any way to contact him while he was out on patrol. She looked at Lois, with her keys clenched in her fist and bristling with determination and realized that even though Clark wasn't here, that didn't mean she was on her own.

Chloe nodded at Lois. "Ok, let's go."

The drive to Star Labs was quick and silent. When they arrived, two guards familiar to Lois met them at the door.

"Ms. Lane, if you will provide Newton with your vehicle's keys he will take care of your car and then of course, right this way to sign in." They logged in at the front desk, were provided with the requisite visitor badges and then were led down a hallway unfamiliar to Chloe. About halfway down the corridor Lois grabbed Chloe's hand and forced the little procession to stop.

"This is the way to Dr. Klein's lab."

"Why yes ma'am." The guard answered helpfully and resumed walking. Chloe tugged Lois along and did her best to ignore the look Lois shot her way, the look that clearly said 'what the hell is going on?'

At the end of the hall, a head appeared, peering around the doorframe. The florescent lights in the ceiling gleamed off his mostly bald head. He saw them coming and the rest of his body popped out into the hallway. Chloe estimated he was somewhere in his early fifties as the short, fine brown hair still residing on either side of his head was only lightly touched with grey. He wore a knee length blue lab coat buttoned right up to a yellow bowtie with red polka dots, which went rather well with the genial, almost childlike excitement on his face that had only dimmed slightly after he saw Lois.

"Lois, I didn't realize you were a part of this." He ushered them into his lab and their escort took up station at the door with another guard.

"Don't worry Dr. Klein," Lois hurried to assure the man. "Everything is off the record; I'm just here as a friend." Lois glanced back over her shoulder at the watchdogs at the door. "What's with the extra security? The only time I've seen guards stationed at the door is when you go to the vault and remove the sample of…" Lois trailed off into silence, noticing a clear box on the counter, edged in a grey matte metal and housing Star Lab's meteorite from Krypton.

"Kryptonite. Yes, you guessed it." Dr. Klein rubbed his hands together like a kid waiting to go in a candy store. "Though how on this earth Ms. Sullivan came in contact with enough of the material for it to be included in the cellular structure of her hair I'd like to know."

"Bernard, I already told you," Dr. Milton Hamlish said as showed his id to he guards at the doorway and entered the lab with Dr. Victor Davinhoe on his heels. "She's not of this earth."

Puzzled, Dr. Klein scratched his head and looked at Chloe who wasn't taking her eyes off the green rock in the box. "But the DNA tests say she is human."

"Weren't you listening? I said she is not from THIS earth. She's from a different earth."

"Different earth? Oh, yes, that's right. Proof of parallel universes and that such," he said dismissively. "Anyhoo, let's get down to why she is here." Dr. Klein turned and retrieved a clipboard. He lifted the top page and scanned his notes. "There are some exciting peculiarities that require further testing and I understand we are under a deadline, so Ms. Sullivan if you would…Ms Sullivan!" He looked up in time to see the subject of his interest swaying on her feet.

"I need, I need to sit down." No chair was close enough. Chloe felt her legs fold beneath her and she sunk to the floor. Ignoring the voices saying her name, she closed her eyes and leaned her head forward. Sitting cross-legged on the white industrial tile prevented her from actually putting her head between her knees, but the compromise seemed to do the trick and the dizziness passed. If only the brutal truth could fade just as easily.

The verdict was in and the sentence was Meteor Freakville. Did that come with a chance for parole or time off for good behavior? Someone grabbed her arm and she felt herself lifted and shifted into a chair. A disposable, paper water cooler cup filled to the brim with icy cold water was pressed into her hand. She glanced down at the clear liquid and frowned, morosely remembering the fresh pot of coffee in the Kent's kitchen she never had a chance to drink. A meteor freak and caffeine deprived, surely that explained almost fainting.

Chloe heard Lois voice make a scoffing sound and then say, "Well that's not going to help." The flimsy conical cup was taken away and in it's place was the squeaky sensation of styrofoam. The smell of burnt coffee assaulted her nostrils. Judging by the manner in which the contents clung to the inside of the cup, the offering was only a step of two above boiled mud. She took a sip and the bitter brew bite back. She sighed in pleasure. Yes it was vile, but she use to drinking her beverage of choice in any state of decay.

A few heartbeats later and Chloe felt the fuzzy edges of her mind slowly begin to sharpen. She jerked when something cold and solid slid against the back of her neck.

"Sit still, Ms. Sullivan, I wouldn't want to cut you." A sniping sound accompanied Milton Hamlish's instructions.

"What?" Chloe's confusion went away as the doctor bagged a freshly shorn lock of hair.

"Don't worry," another voice reassured her, "he took a cutting from underneath just like last time so it won't show…much. And now for the roots."

"The roots?" She questioned vaguely. In answer, Victor Davinhoe wrapped several strands of her hair around his fingers and yanked them out of her scalp.

"Ow! Hey!" She rubbed at the sting and protested the rough treatment but Dr. Davinhoe was too busy examining his specimen to take note.

"If they get hair, I'll get blood." She looked up to see Dr. Klein wielding a thick syringe. She cringed from the needle.

Lois moved to stand protectively between Chloe and Klein. "Wait just a minute here, no one is getting blood."

Chloe sighed. "No, Lois, it's fine. I'm just jumpy." Dr. Klein patted Chloe on the head like a pediatrician proud of a brave child and swabbed an antiseptic on the area above her forearm. Chloe turned her head so she didn't see the sharp point pushing into her vein. Lois knelt next to her, worry straining her features.

"Chloe, tell me what's wrong? What's happening?" Lois's soft concern was more than Chloe could take.

She closed her eyes and a fat tear slid down her cheek. No more evasions. Time to say her fate aloud. She waited until Dr. Klein finished drawing blood and stepped away before she answered. Her voice sounded rough and low. "You remember what I told you about the meteor freaks in Smallville." An ugly smile twisted on her face. "Seems I'm one of them."

"What! No!" Lois shook her head trying not to recall how many of the stories Chloe told her about the meteor infected ending with their deaths.

"Victor informed me on the phone that I have traces of a meteor rock at a cellular level. The meteor turns out to by kryptonite. I'm infected." She swiped at her eyes and angrily dashed away the tears. "There's nothing I can do but wait for the day I go off the deep end like ninety-nine percent of the rest of them."

"Actually Ms. Sullivan," Dr Klein spoke up from across the room as he switched out another sample under the microscope, "that's not true."

"Ha!" A short burst of hysteria leaked out. "What, have I already gone nuts and just imagined crossing over into another universe? Am I already locked down in Belle Reeve?"

"No, no. I'm talking about your so called meteor infection."

Chloe's shoulders sagged. "I understand it isn't an actual infection per say."

"Oh, I understand the analogy, it's just that while samples of your hair confirmed you _were_ as you say 'meteor infected', your blood sample proves you are no longer."

_Author's note: I know I implied they were on their way back and we really are very close, but it occured to me that there are a few issues in the show that I needed to address, kind of my own fixes for issues that we know come up in the future. I was not in the least happy with the end of season 8 and the hints of season 9 pretty much confirm for me that the story I want told is only going to be told by fans, and when I am done with this story (I swear someday, it will happen) I don't want something like the Tears of Suck getting in the way of a happy ending. I promise it is a minor detour. Hey, as always, big thanks for reading. Massive love for reviews._


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